


Worth It

by TheSkyandtheSun



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 25,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSkyandtheSun/pseuds/TheSkyandtheSun
Summary: We can’t tell you who were are or where we live…Cassie’s parents are getting tired of her dodging questions. They’d never guess what’s really going on, but they know something’s up and they deliver an ultimatum: the truth or permanent curfew. Tom is also starting to wonder about Jake-his hollow look and persistent comings-and-goings- and it’s getting through to his Yeerk. It couldn’t come at a worse time. The new Yeerk Peace Movement could be crushed before it has a chance to take off. Can Cassie, Ax, and the other Animorphs save it?This story is set after #25 The Attack, in an Alternate Universe, for reasons that will become apparent.
Relationships: Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill/Marco (Animorphs), Jake Berenson/Cassie (Animorphs), Rachel (Animorphs)/Tobias (Animorphs)
Comments: 122
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This project began as a long conversation with a friend of mine about our love of Animorphs and why despite that we stopped reading about the time the 30th book came out. We didn't know about the fact that the books were being ghostwritten or that Applegate had a contract with Scholastic demanding she put out a new book every month. All we knew as kids were that things started to make less and less sense. 
> 
> Did anyone else think KA Applegate just straight up forgot about the YPM for a long time? I did. Also, why didn't their parents ever realize what was going on? How did the Yeerks never figure out until late in the series they're not a group of Andalites?
> 
> The point of this fanfiction isn't to "fix" Animorphs. Just for me as an adult to speculate on some things that were never answered in the series. This will update every two weeks with or without an audience.

My name is Cassie. I can't tell you my last name no matter how much I wish I could.  
We have to disguise our identities to stay alive. If the Yeerks ever learn who we are, we'll be done for. If they don't kill us outright, they'll make us Controllers. They'll force a Yeerk slug into our brains. It will turn us into tools of the Yeerk invasion of Earth.

It used to be that simple. Shut up or end up dead or worse. But sometimes, keeping silent has consequences. Especially on our families. 

So, when it’s time to go to the meeting Jake called in the barn, I have to sneak out as a squirrel. It’s nerve-wracking. I half-expect Dad or Mom to come walking in any moment and see a half-squirrel, half-human freak shrinking to the floor. Fortunately, that doesn’t happen and I can scamper over unharassed by anything except my own jumpy squirrel mind.

Have I mentioned how cool it is to be able to turn into a squirrel?

You can hear pretty much everything. And smell even better. Vision isn’t so great; black-and-white with permanent what’s-that peripheral motion detectors.

When you’re a squirrel, everything could potentially be death with talons or claws.

The barn on our farm is really the Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic. My dad is a vet. So is my mom, but she works at a zoo called The Gardens. The Wildlife Rehabilitation Clinic is just Dad and me. We take in injured animals and try to save them, then release them back into their natural habitats. Inside are dozens of cages full of birds,bigger cages for badgers and opossums and skunks, an operating room, and a couple of small recovery rooms. All in all, a great place to be a human who can turn into animals. We blend right in, as Marco would say.

Speaking of Marco, he’s already there, fiddling with a piece of straw. His expression is somewhere between bored and worried. Jake is pacing. He’s cute when he paces. Actually, he’s cute all the time… I better stop while I’m ahead. Rachel hasn’t arrived yet. She called and said she’s backed up with a haul from Nordstrom. No surprise there. Tobias is perched on top of an empty cage, preening his feathers. He’s a hawk now. He used to be a human, got stuck in morph, and then got the ability to morph back. That’s his own story and he tells it better than I do. But you can only stay in morph for under two hours or you’re stuck forever.

And then there’s Ax. Ax is an Andalite. Nothing on the planet looks like him: a weird cross between a human, a deer, and a scorpion with eyestalks. He’s sitting in the hay, trying not to spook the horses. They eye him wearily but don’t bolt.

Ax’s voice fills my mind. Andalites are telepathic and have no mouths. They eat through their hooves. 

“Hi Ax,” I say. “Hi, Jake. Marco. Tobias.”

Marco looks up from fiddling. “You look like one of your raccoons. No sleep?”

Wow. Thanks, Marco.

I swallow. “I…um, have a problem, guys.” My breath catches in my throat.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be any worse than the bombshell my dad dropped on me this morning,” Marco says.

Jake stops pacing and rolls his eyes. “Really?” I squeak. 

My parents have been suspicious about my constant sneaking out and slipping grades since I first started battling Yeerks. I was able to explain it away at first saying that I was going to get homework help from my friends. That worked for the first year. But the questions about staying out for so long persisted. Dad and Mom are busy, but not so busy they don’t check with other parents. Last night, they cornered me with the truth: Jake and Marco’s families haven’t seen me doing homework at their places. 

I’ve never been good at lying. I hate doing it for my parents. I should be used to it by now, but I knew that this time, I couldn’t do it. So I clamped my mouth shut.

Wrong choice.

“What’s wrong, Cassie?” Jake’s voice is gentle.

“I… have to quit. I can’t be an Animorph anymore.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassie is in deep trouble. Marco is, too. No one is being helpful. Except Rachel.

Chapter 2

The first one to speak is Marco. “Haven’t we heard this before?”

I blush. They have, not too long ago, at that. I’ve had a lot of time to think since then. Too much time since I’m always too stressed to do homework and study like I’m supposed to.

“Only, the last time you quit, you almost ended up trapped as a butterfly forever. Not to mention our cover got blown. What’s it going to be this time?”

Jake says a bad word.

I nearly point out that we also made the only Yeerk friend we’ve ever had when I quit. But I haven’t heard from Aftran 942 in so long, it hardly seems worth mentioning. “It’s not what you think,” I assure them. I tell them about how my parents had cornered me, literally, on my way to school this morning. How they put their feet down even as they gave me puppy-dog eyes. “We love you, baby. But you can’t keep doing this to us.”

I finish with, “This isn’t ‘you’re grounded until the weekend’. This is ‘no leaving the house until we get a straight answer from you’.” 

You did leave the house. Ax points out.

I nod. “As a squirrel. They won’t be expecting that, but I heard them walking by my door every hour or so. If they don’t know I’m gone already, they will soon. And they’ll come here.”

Jake slaps his forehead. “Okay, all of us to Ax’s scoop, now.”

Everyone starts getting up.

“Still not as big as the bomb my dad dropped,” Marco muttered. “He wants to send me to juvie detention.”

“What?” Jake snaps. “Why?”

Marco rolls his eyes. “Compulsive lying.”

Behind us, I hear Rachel laughing. “So, your dad’s finally busting you for all those fibs you told about being handsome and charming. What took so long?”

I’m grateful Rachel is here. She’s my best friend, fearless, and almost always backs me up. But… the last time we had a major disagreement is when I walked out on the group. I wonder how she’ll take it this time. Or how much she actually heard me say, for that matter.

Marco ignores her. “My old man’s got a point. I have been lying to everybody lately. Teachers, police, him, his girlfriend. It does bother me, no matter what the rest of you think.” 

“We’re all tired of lying to our families, but we don’t really have a choice,” Jake said.

That stung. Nobody has a better reason for lying than Jake does. His brother, Tom, is a Controller. A Yeerk host.

Rachel raises one elegant eyebrow. “Do we? Because I know I’d be getting a hell of a lot more flak for my weird behavior if it weren’t for my parents’ divorce. I can’t even feel bad about them separating because I know it’s nothing compared to being a Yeerk slave. While they’re getting on with their normal lives, more people are being taken. We know our parents and some of our siblings are not Controllers. We can trust them that much. And it would be nice to have an adult to help out.”

We stare at her, waning and waxing by moonlight, for a long time as we walk to Ax’s scoop. The woods are so dark we navigate more by our ears than our eyes. Nobody morphs. This is a human problem and we can’t hide our misgivings behind our morphs all the time.

What can I say to that? I’ve had those thoughts before. I can tell from how quiet everyone else is that they have, too. Except for Ax and Tobias. Ax’s parents are millions of miles away on another planet and Tobias has no idea what’s happened to his mother. His father, Elfangor, is dead. He died giving us our power to morph.

I joined the war effort wanting to help the world and honor him. I still want these things. I wonder what Ax and Tobias are thinking as we’re moving silently through the trees about this. Relief that the problem isn’t theirs? A grief that they don’t have parents to watch their backs?

My stomach lurches. That’s all my mom and dad are really doing. They’re trying to watch my back. Keep me safe. And I keep stepping all over their efforts in order to fight a war. Which wouldn’t be so bad if it was what I actually want to do.

See, I’ve never been comfortable with being a child soldier. I don’t just think it’s wrong for a kid to be fighting. I think using violence to get your way is wrong. Then there’s the lying, the nightmares, and never knowing if I’ll see anyone I love again. It’s amazing I held on as long as I did. And now that Mom and Dad are making me quit, it’s almost a relief.

But I’d rather die right here and now than admit that to my friends. Especially Jake. I like him. Like like him. And I can’t look him in the eye and tell him my conscience matters more than freeing his brother.

We reach the scoop, a sloped area hidden from the view of prying campers and hikers. It’s full of miscellaneous junk that we kick or bump into. Leftovers from Ax’s journeys into human life. Marco turns on the TV and lowers the volume so it’s just a muffled noise like the grown-ups talking in Peanuts. He sits down on an old mattress Ax probably uses for a bed and gazes at Jake.

“Are we doing this now?” Rachel asks as we get comfortable.

“Yeah,” Jake says. “We can’t afford to lose a member. Two members.” He meets Marco’s gaze and then mine. “All in favor of spilling the beans to our folks: raise your hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I have their dynamic down to point, but I remember them bickering like teens (minus the petty name-calling and gossiping) between mission plans. I want to do a deeper analysis of Cassie: her attitude towards being a warrior and a pacifist. How does she deal with it? Would she have quit again anyway given her beliefs? 
> 
> Jake is assuming that telling the truth will lead to Cassie and Marco continuing to be Animorphs. That might be too optimistic. Or delivering his own version of an ultimatum to their parents. What I remember of Jake, he was driven to the point of obsession most of the time.
> 
> Marco asks the hard questions. In a douche way.
> 
> Rachel is being Rachel.
> 
> I have to reread some of Ax and Tobias' books to get a better feel for their characters.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not much happens in this chapter. Cassie got to talk about her parental issues and now it's Marco's turn. Also, Marco breaks the fourth wall. Because he's Marco. 
> 
> I promise the next chapter will be more exciting.

My name is Marco. What, you didn’t think Cassie would get to hog the entire narrative, did you? So, this is how it goes: we tell the parts of the story where we have the biggest role. That’s Cassie earlier on and now me. I do most of the talking and funny stuff here, so I get dibs on narrating. Fair?

“I wasn’t kidding about Dad wanting to send me to juvie. The alternative is getting taken out of school and into full-time therapy. Because my dad thinks I joined a gang. Yeah, that’s right.” 

That gets me raised eyebrows from Jake and Rachel. “I don’t like to think I’ve got a bad attitude, but fighting the Yeerks made me toughen up. There’s stuff I don’t take anymore that I used to. There’s a lot of stuff I don’t care about anymore because it just doesn’t seem to matter when you’ve gotten limbs hacked off. There’s a look I see in my own reflection every morning of someone scarred by violence. My dad’s seen it before in kids on the streets.

“That’s why he thinks I’m doing the thug life.

“Cassie got her thrashing this morning. I got it last night when Dad blew up at me about how he discovered I’d been lying to him for a whole year from talking to Cassie and Jake’s parents and how ashamed Mom would be to know I’ve sunk this far. I got mad and we both said stuff we regret after that to each other.”

Nods all around, except from Ax, who I’m pretty sure has never been in that much trouble with his folks before. I never used to, either. It’s funny. I never thought Ax of all people would remind me of who I used to be. What I like about him is how different he is from everyone else I know. I’m also glad he can’t read human facial expressions well. Because I like him. And because if Rachel can love Tobias the Bird-boy, why can’t I have a crush on his Andalite uncle? 

“Dad thinks Mom is dead. I know better,” I continue. “The lies and secrets just pile up, don’t they? So, I totally understand what Rachel is saying. Cassie and I kind of have to come clean at this point or be out of the fight indefinitely.” 

I’m the first to raise my hand.

“On one condition,” I say. “Nobody breathes a word about my mom. Okay?”

Everyone nods. I’m grateful for Ax’s TV. My head is buzzing with thoughts so loud I can almost hear them.

Rachel raises her hand. Then Cassie.

Jake raises his hand. “We don’t tell my parents. Tom.” 

We nod. Ax doesn’t vote. All eyes turn towards Tobias.

He perches on Ax’s sloping shoulders and says, I have no idea the consequences that will come from this… I just want everyone to have a cleanup plan in case things go nuts.

We don’t ask what he means by nuts. Knowing Jake, he’s probably thinking of how to talk our parents down from a freak out about morphing and aliens invading. Rachel is thinking about how our parents will fit into war strategy as non-morphers. My brain can’t come up with anything better than what to do if they decide to go to the Yeerks thinking we can’t win. I freaking hate my brain sometimes.

“We’ll figure something out,” Jake says. 

Tobias nods and lifts a wing. I smile at him. “See, that wasn’t so hard.”

“It’s settled,” Jake folds his hands into his lap. “Oh boy. Everyone go home.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom catches Jake heading inside and opens a can of worms.

Jake is home late again. Ma and Pa are arguing about him being out for so long upstairs. They don’t even hear him come in through the back door like he’s some kind of cat burglar. I do. I don’t pay attention much these days, but I do pay attention to him. Sadly, it’s mostly because I have no choice.

I’m Tom, Jake’s older brother. And I’m still his family no matter what my Yeerk thinks. So, I noticed seven months ago when he lost weight and stopped sleeping. Well before our parents did. My Yeerk didn’t care. Why should it? All it’s interested in is tricking Jake into become a host. If anything, it just uses Jake’s illness as a way to torture me.

Too bad you can’t help him. That hollow look. You’ve seen it before at The Sharing. Bums, drunks, druggies, and whores. They all come to us with that same emptiness. And we fill them up. 

I have to endure that kind of shit-talking 24/7. The worst part is, the little slug is right. Its real name is Essa 412, but I like to give it nicknames. It’s about all you can do when you’re a slave in your own body.

My room is right next to Jake’s, so I’m the first to hear his screams. One time, he even punched me in the face when I went to check on him. Yeerk control isn’t perfect. When I realized I had say over what happened to my body, I went to see what made him scream like the Devil was after him. I never did get an answer. After he punched me, Sluggy regained control and made some smart-ass comment that shut Jake up like a clam.

I wish I’d been able to say what I wanted, which was, “Hey, what’s going on? You can tell me about it”. I don’t care if Yeerkbag would have used it against Jake. I just needed to know my brother wasn’t on something. I heard that crack eats the parts of your brain that let you feel pleasure so everything’s anger and fear. Meth gives you shivers and takes the weight off your bones. Nice stuff you learn at The Sharing. Yeerks care about that kind of thing because they don’t want people who’ve been on drugs for years. Long-term addicts are so messed up a Yeerk can’t do anything with them.

I don’t know what’s worse: Jake being made into a Controller or Jake being disqualified from being one because he’s half-dead already. 

Right now, he looks like the world’s going to end. His gaunt face turns to me. “What are you looking at?”

Essa 412 shrugs my shoulders. “Squirt the skeleton. You need to eat more or you’re never gonna grow.”

Jake shrugs.

Apologize. I hiss. Apologize and then ask him what’s really going on. If we don’t, he might not tell Ma and Pa he needs help. If he doesn’t get it-

Don’t care. Yeerkface interrupts. Whatever BS your little brother is into is no concern of the Empire.

What about his host eligibility? I press. Is that of interest?

Yeerkwad ponders it briefly as Jake starts to head upstairs. “Squirt,” it says with my mouth. “You on drugs?”

For a moment, Jake pauses on the stairs, mouth agape. If I could slap my forehead and run I would. No way in hell would I ever be caught dead talking to family that way. But ever since Yeerkball took over, my family’s opinion of me has been slowly backsliding into Entitled Smart Ass. Essa 412 is an entitled smart ass, which just goes to show what a complete shit of an actor it is. 

My mouth says, “I need to know what’s really going on. Ma and Pa do, too. We can help you.”

Damn it. I shouldn’t have thought that! Now it knows to clean up its act.

Jake’s shoulders start shaking. I want to run up and hug him. Then, I realize he’s laughing.

“Pfhaw-haw-haw!” He covers his mouth.

Essadork just blinks at him.

“You? Help me?” Jake laughs some more. “You can’t help yourself!” 

For a tense moment, my mind freezes. Could he know I’m a Controller? How would he know it isn’t really his brother talking to him?

“What do you mean?” Essa 412 asks, thinking exactly the same thing.

Run! I want to scream.

He doesn’t run. Jake just smirks at me. “That’s all you ever do. Make dumb jokes and try to look cool. You’re even doing it now.”

Essa 412 spreads my arms. “Just saying. If you have a problem, The Sharing could-“

“Ever since you joined The Sharing your skills in class have acquired an inverse relationship to your decency. No thanks.”

I think he said I’m a jerk. It’s not me, I want to grouse.

If I ever get free from this wad of spit in my ear, I’m going to owe everyone a million apologies.

Joke’s on you, little shithead ape, Essa 412 thinks as it directs my eyes to follow Jake to his room. Just wait until we take you. You’ll have something to scream about then.

I wish I could cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit I have no idea what I'm doing writing for Tom. No canon lines as far as I know. He's a generic teen boy at this point. Tried to make him likable and his Yeerk cringey. I reread some of the dialogue between Jake and Tom's Yeerk and said to myself, "how did no one realize this kid's got an alien in his head? Or at least suspect he's in a cult?" Oh, well...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassie bites the bullet.

My parents are waiting for me on the porch when I get back. Their faces don’t betray any emotion, but Mom’s gripping Dad’s arms tightly. My stomach sinks.

“Where were you, young lady?” Dad asks.

“The forest. My friends and I were… going over how to talk to you.”

Mom folds her arms. “Is that how it is now? You need their permission to talk to us?” Then she calls me by my full name and I know I’m in as deep trouble as I can be in.

“No!” I say. “I wasn’t asking permission. There was just never a good time or a good way to tell you why I’m gone for so long. It’s hard now.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell us,” Dad insists.

My throat catches. I swallow. “What I’m about to tell you might sound crazy or paranoid or crazy paranoid, but it’s true. Certain people… are not what they appear. Friends, neighbors, and… me. I’m going to show you something now. Don’t be scared. It’s perfectly safe and I’ve done it many times.”

“What are you going to do? Does this have something to do with cults?” Mom asks.

Despite myself, I laugh. “No, Mom. It’s weirder than that.”

And I start my morphing demonstration.

As I morph from human to horse, I explain about Yeerks, Andalites, and the blue box. I tell them about Elfangor and how he gave us the power to morph. I’m long done with becoming a horse and changing back by the time I finish my story. Mom and Dad are frozen in shock.

“Um, what do you think?” I ask.

They don’t speak for a long time. 

“Where is my little girl?” Mom finally whispers.

I blink at them. “What?”

Mom shakes her head rapidly. “I couldn’t follow half of what you said. Aliens who steal brains and bodies… shapeshifters. What about Cassie?”

“I’m Cassie!” My mouth drops open. “You don’t believe me?”  
Dad pulls Mom closer to him. “What she’s trying to say is… when you said people aren’t what they appear to be, does that mean they… that you’re… not human?”

This couldn’t be going more wrong. “Guys, it’s me. Your daughter!” I can taste salt in my mouth. I’m crying. I almost never cry in front of my parents.

“Cassie would have told us the truth. Cassie trusts us,” Mom’s voice is tight. She glares at me, daring me to challenge her.

I knew something like this would happen. I knew you wouldn’t listen. You weren’t there. I’m not an alien! My head spins with thoughts. I take a deep breath. “I’m going for a walk.”

They don’t stop me.

How did it go? Tobias asks when I reach the scoop.

I thump down in front of the TV.

That bad, huh?

“I think they believed me after I morphed. They just didn’t believe I’m human.”

Shiiiit.

“Shit is right.” I wipe tears away.

Tobias and Ax sit to my sides. Ax flips the remote to a rom-com I don’t recognize. After a few moments of sitting watching stupid people fail to hit on each other, I feel my nose start to unclog. It’s a relief to feel less gross. I lean on Ax’s shoulder. He stiffens at first and then relaxes.

When I was little, my parents would sit on either side of me while we read stories or played on the porch together. It’s not 100% the same with Ax and Tobias, but it’s close enough. Especially when Tobias morphs human and puts his arm around my shoulder. We sit in near-total silence until the credits roll.

“I need to go home,” I say.

Good luck, Tobias says, echoed by Ax.

I find my way back with a flashlight Ax keeps around the scoop, making a mental note to return it tomorrow morning before school. My parents aren’t on the porch, but the light is on and the windows glow a soft yellow. 

I hesitate before going in. My parents are reasonable people but I have no idea what awaits me inside. I know things won’t be the same between us anymore. Home… family… feels as far away as any star in the sky. 

Quietly, I push the front door open.

Mom and Dad are sitting at the dining table, mugs in front of them. Teabags litter the surface. They look up at me with wide eyes.

“I didn’t expect you to come back,” Mom whispers.

I swallow. “This is my home.”

Suddenly, their arms are around me. Mom is squeezing my shoulders. Dad hugs me from behind, patting Mom gently.

“We’re sorry,” he says. “It was a lot to take in. Things were said that shouldn’t have been said. We don’t think you’re alien or a liar.”

Mom mutters an apology into my hair.

“I’m sorry, too,” I say, fighting back tears. “You’re right that I should have trusted you with the truth sooner.”

Dad pats me on the back. “Well, that’s in the past.” He tries to smile. “So, you’re out to save the world from these Yeerks, right? How can we help?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to write, not just because Cassie is my fav Animorph, but also because I know when people are scared and confused, they don't tend to handle it well. I struggled to strike the right balance between typical human reactions to being hit with unpleasant surprises and caring. I didn't want her parents to completely reject her or flip their shit. I also struggled to make sure Cassie's reactions made sense. She is such a calm, caring person but I think this would push her limits.I'm not entirely happy with the result but I like it better than my previous versions. Please comment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassie takes her parents to meet the Chee. Hilarity ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After so much doom and gloom, I wanted to write a more lighthearted chapter. I tried to imagine one of the funniest ways this could go without it becoming cartoonish. (I thought the idea of the Chee was kind of silly, even if they turned out to be useful allies. Bipedal dog robots? Where's the evil cat robots?) I also tried to imagine what kind of hideout the Chee would build for the YPM. Hope you like it.

That’s how we end up at Erek King’s house, headquarters of the Yeerk Peace Movement. It’s a nice house and covered in dogs. Literally, they’re everywhere. Big ones, small ones, and everything in between. My parents love animals but even they have to gawk.

“This is… weird,” Mom says, eying the hedges cut into bone shapes.

“And not the kind of weird I would expect from aliens,” Dad adds.

“Mr. King just really likes dogs,” I say. I don’t want to explain that Mr. King and his kid aren’t Yeerks at all but part of an ancient race of highly advanced androids called Chee. They pretend to be hosts in order to spy on the Empire. And the reason Chee love dogs is the connection between canines to their creators inside the Chee’s positronic brains. Not quite sure I get it. Dogs are friendly, eager to please, and social. What’s not to like about them, similarities to dead creators or no?

Erek and Mr. King wouldn’t appreciate me spilling their secrets without permission, so I don’t.

The door opens before we knock. Erek is there with a sleepy, satisfied expression on his face. “Ah, Cassie. We wondered when you were going to show up.”

“You must be Erek. Nice to meet one of Cassie’s friends.” Mom puts emphasis on the last word.

Erek takes it in stride. “Nice to meet you. My dad isn’t home right now but you can come in.”

Dad stays by the door after Erek closes it, watching him closely. Mom looks around a pretty normal house with equal intensity. A dog that resembles a mop rubs against her legs, sniffing our shoes.

“I’ll feed you later, Mr. Clean,” Erek says, picking up the dog and putting him down again, facing away from us. 

I gape at Erek and then burst out laughing. “Mr. Clean?”

“Yeah, he’s the tidiest dog I’ve ever met. Look at him. Not a hair out of place.”

Mom throws up her hands the way she does when it’s all too much. “Er, I don’t want to be rude, but you’re a… what’s your real name? I don’t know how to talk to aliens yet.”

“Cassie said this is a place for Yeerks who don’t believe in taking involuntary hosts,” Dad says helpfully. He’s just repeating everything I said but it’s good to know he was listening. 

“It is,” Erek said. “I am Ullit 687. Erek is my host.”

And then a Yeerk crawls out of his ear.

“Ahh!” Mom screams. 

Erek catches the Yeerk as if it’s no big deal and calmly holds it out for them to examine. Dad tries not to while Mom stares in morbid fascination.

“Nancy,” he says to Mom. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“But he’s a-“ she gestures wildly at the Yeerk. I wonder if it’s real or just a hologram. The Chee disguise themselves that way. Mom gives up when Dad doesn’t reply and says weakly, “it’s nice to meet both of you.”

“You’re doing well,” Erek says gently.

“Thanks,” Dad says.

The Yeerk goes back into Erek’s ear. “Now that’s over with, care to meet some of the other members and see our hideout?”

Mom and Dad look around. “We thought this was it,” Dad says sheepishly. “There’s more?”

“Oh, yeah,” Erek says, ignoring their discomfort. “We Yeerks build major structures underground: Kandrona pool, docking ports, shipyards, et cetera. Did you explain the pool, Cassie?”

“Uh-huh,” I say. I whisper to my parents. “Hold on.”

They grab each other’s hands just as the floor begins to move. I wince as I realize I should have clarified. I’m holding onto the sofa while Erek has a hand on the trip mechanism in the bookshelf. Slowly, the entire living room is lowered into the basement.

The basement is basically a mile-long park. Trees line grassy areas where dogs and the Chee play together. The Chee have thrown up their holograms to appear as they are in human and Yeerk society. Normally, they look kind of like bipedal metallic dogs. Erek quietly points out actual human and Hork-Bajir Controllers to me. There’s several dozen. More than I expected. A blue sky floats serenely above it all.

Dad whistles.

“Amazing,” Mom breathes. “Is this your space ship?”

Erek chuckles. “It’s holographic. This is actually just concrete, the Kandrona pools, and people.”

Things have changed since I last came. The Kandrona pools are the biggest change. They’re small circular ponds the size of kiddie swimming pools. Bluish glowing liquid holds what appears to be over a hundred Yeerks each. I count over two-dozen pools. That’s a lot of members.

“Erek, this is better than I dreamed,” I say.

“Aftran 942 has been working hard,” he beams.

“Where is she?” I ask.

Erek scratches his ear. “She’s been promoted. Her host is Hork-Bajir now and in charge of security. She got called away for something important Visser Three wants to be done.”

Hearing the name sucks the joy out of me. “Is that what you needed to talk about?” After I’d called Erek saying I wanted to bring my parents over, he mentioned an urgent matter that needed “the whole gang”.

“Yes,” Erek says. He gestures towards the pools. “This is the only way we can currently talk unnoticed. But it means a lot of us are gone at a time.”

“The wrong people are starting to notice,” I say at the same time Mom whispers, “who is Visser Three again” to Dad. “But if Visser Three suspected something, couldn’t he just torture it out of you?”

“He’d have to torture a lot of Yeerks,” Erek shakes his head. “Not very practical. We stick together with cover stories. And even those who aren’t into peace still believe in sticking up for their friends and siblings. The Visser only has rumors of a countermovement to go on. But that’s enough for him. He’ll start the headhunting soon. Visser Seven is arriving today. She’s supposed to help him with that.”

“Two Vissers? One is bad enough!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erek muses on the current state of things. We meet a voluntary human-Controller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing the biggest asspull I've done yet since there are zero instances of Erek as narrator canonically. But the Chee are interesting enough I wanted to give it a try. I feel like he would have good insight into what might be possible for the Animorphs in future.

For the moment, my name is Erek or Ullit 687, depending on who is asking. You probably would not get anything out of knowing my real name, it being a randomly assigned string of numbers. I am a Chee. “Chee” means friend and I want to be your friend. Unless you want to kill anyone, that is. We could be allies but not friends, per say. I think of Cassie as a friend, even if she does have a distressing tendency towards terrorism. Deep down, she is not a violent person. I can already tell she learned that from her parents, whose gentle hands soothe my dogs’ tired muscles. Whose eyes gradually shift from wide to curious as time passes. They marvel at the Hork-Bajir and cautiously dip their fingers in the pools to safely experience meeting an unhosted Yeerk. Cassie’s father cannot seem to stop trying to figure out the sky.

“I just stick my hand into it and I touch the wall!” he says repeatedly.

Humans are so funny when they are confused. 

Cassie seems to feel a deeper peace here than I have ever seen before on an Animorph. I watch her crouch at a pool letting Yeerks brush against her fingers. She shows not a trace of fear or hatred. While I do not claim to know her well, I know her type. You do not get to be five thousand years old without learning a thing or two about reading character. This is where she would rather be than with her friends. I wonder if she realizes that yet. I would be surprised if our experience on the Iskoort homeworld did not reveal some of that truth to her.

“We have to get everyone here to plan,” Cassie says as I take a seat next to her.

I frown. “If we do, does that mean more violence, Cassie?”

She meets my gaze. “If we must. I’d prefer not to. Now that we’ve got more brains involved, we might be able to come up with a plan to save this movement that doesn’t involve hacking people to death and blowing stuff up.” She pauses and looks away. “Erek, I don’t think any of us really enjoy being kid soldiers.”

I want to point out that their small numbers and guerrilla tactics are more akin to that of a terrorist group than soldiers, but now would not be the time. I shut up and listen. 

“We-the Animorphs-always assumed we’d need to scare the Yeerks off to make them stop enslaving humans. The Peace Movement would get rid of that need.”

I grin. She gets it. “Yes!”

She looks back at me, eyes full of hope. I want so badly to tell her that we will make it work. That she does not have to do this anymore.

“Your parents wish to help?” I ask instead.

“Yeah,” she says. “But they’re not sure how. What do you guys need?”

I hesitate. They might not be too happy to see our “needs, please” list. Because at the top is- “We’re low on hosts. Voluntary ones, that is. Every Yeerk you see here has a host but less than 1% of human hosts are voluntary.”

“One percent?!”

“Voluntaries are like gold. Rarer and more precious, certainly.”

We turn around to face the new speaker. I recognize them. Nesfil 002 has to be the one who spoke before, but it is Emerald who says, “Hola. I’m Emerald. My Yeerk’s name is Nesfil 002.”

“Hi,” Cassie says nervously. “I don’t think I ever met a voluntary before.”

“Most people haven’t,” Emerald smiles a chocolate-colored smile. I like her a lot.

“Why don’t you two tell Cassie your stories?” I say, hoping I do not sound too much like I am trying to arrange a playdate between children. Compared to me, they are both ridiculously young, but that is beside the point. I want to foster a dialogue. I notice, to my delight, that Cassie’s parents are coming towards us. I hope if Emerald and Nesfil 002 agree, they will wait.

They do. Cassie’s parents sit to each side as if cradling her between them. Part of me finds it quite endearing. No matter how dangerous she is they still want to be the ones doing the protecting. Another part of me wants to scoff. Nobody here would violate the tranquility of this place. The intersection of grass, wind, and the clouds are where we pause to consider what could be in a universe constantly trying to be the opposite. 

I am rambling. Forgive an old robot.

Nesfil 002 exits her host and drops into the nearest pool. Emerald watches her go and then turns to her audience. “My name is Emerald Littlefeather and I was born on an Indian Reservation in Arizona. Growing up, my family lived quite differently from most Americans. We didn’t have electricity in winter. We bartered for what we needed. Money came from the state and federal governments. The school I went to had only a few dozen kids and was shut down every time it needed repairs. My parents knew I had no future there and tried to get me to go to a different school outside the Rez. That didn’t happen until The Sharing came recruiting. They got me into a better school and set up with a different family when I was eight. So many of us joined hoping to escape poverty, even after we understood the cost..."

By the time she finished, there was not an eye that was dry, including her own. I do not know what Cassie or her parents imagined a voluntary host would be like, but I hope this painted a clearer picture. I have heard many similar stories to Emerald’s.

Nesfil 002’s story was quite a bit shorter, mostly because there was too much that would need explaining if she went into any detail. “I was born of three parents. Yeerks merge together and then fragment to reproduce. I never knew them because I am them. I hold within myself memories of all my ancestors before me. Nevertheless, I was too small at first to know what I was. I was a piece, disconnected, and without context. The Empire gives us that and all that we need…”

Telling both stories took only fifteen minutes. I receive notice that Jake and the other Animorphs are bringing their families over as soon as they broach the truth. I know not to hold my breath for a swift arrival. The others will likely drag their heels after so much hesitation. Several other hosts join us with their Yeerks. The stories flow for the next few hours.

At the end of it all, I ask, “So, how do you guys feel about being auxiliary hosts?”

“Sure,” Cassie says, even as her parents yell, “NO!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Essa 412 see something they shouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter. I'm not entirely happy with it because events depend so much on coincidence. It's a Tom chapter so I did more asspulls to make the narrative work. (A part of me is kind of surprised the scenario I describe or something similar never occurred in the series.) Let me know what you think.

I don’t get any sleep. Not just because it’s a way for me to not-so-subtlely sabotage Essa 412, but also because the look Jake gave me was one I hoped I would never see. The look of someone who has given up on you.

Essa 412, not being one to simply lie in bed waiting to fall asleep, starts reviewing recruitment plans and lists of all Controllers in California (conveniently disguised as an English essay). I can feel its little cogs turning away (don’t ask me how; It’s freaking weird how Yeerks connect to their hosts) when I hear Jake’s door open.

Quietly, Essa 412 maneuvers my body over to my own door and peers through the keyhole. 

Jake goes across the hall and opens the door to my parents’ room. He goes inside. This would be odd enough, but a moment later, Pa comes out, nervously adjusting his clothing. He’s dressed to go out.

At one o'clock in the morning? I think. 

Essa 412 agrees. It wants to check something quickly. It creeps us out of my room and to the stairwell. We watch Pa go downstairs, grab the fireplace poker, and leave.

The front door seems to take forever to close.

Essa 412 hurries me over to Ma and Pa’s room. Pa is there, right next to Ma, snoring into his pillow.

Well, well, well. Essa 412 sounds delighted. We knew the Andalite Bandits couldn’t all be Andalites. But this… Visser Three will be pleased. And if I catch a human Morpher myself, I’ll be promoted. To sub-Visser at least!

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

I do the only thing I can think of. Summoning up every ounce of willpower, I lock my legs. We tumble to the floor.

Don’t you dare ruin this for me, you stupid ape! Essa 412 screams.

Bite me, sluggy. I reply.

Essa 412 pushes me forward with my arms. We make it to the hall window just in time to see a beat-up old Cadillac drive off. Briefly, we glimpse Jake-as-Pa in the driver’s seat. 

Go, go, go! I cheer. 

“Ahhhhh!”

One thing about Yeerks. They can inflict other kinds of pain besides psychological. And Essa 412 is a master of doing this. The human brain, it explained to me once, is very sensitive to changes in blood pressure. By wrapping itself around my grey matter just so, it can bring me excruciating pain without permanent damage. Essa 412 decides now is a good time to apply the disciplining rod.

“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!”

The next few moments are a blur. Vaguely, I am aware of the hallway giving way to my room. Of something heavy in my hands. My vision swims and I feel like I’m falling. I can hear voices, but I don’t know what they’re saying.

Dread grips me. Us. Essa 412 stops walking. 

Ma and Pa are standing in front of their door, horror and confusion warring for control over their faces.

“What was that screaming?” Pa asks. “And is that a gun?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering why Jake morphed his father: to not draw attention where they're going. These are fourteen-year-olds. You'll find out where they're going next time.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom is after Jake. Tobias takes charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter practically wrote itself. I've always wanted to write a car chase scene. Bonus points for it being Animorphs!

It’s Tom. I say.

“What?” Jake’s spine stiffens.

He’s following us. Looks like your parents’ van. I can see his dead-serious face easily. Hawk vision isn’t any better at night than a human’s, but the streetlights provide plenty of light to see our pursuer.

Jake swears under his breath.

“Must go faster,” Marco says. The car thrums as Jake kicks the shift into overdrive.

I morph human. Not because I’m not confident in my grip, but because hawks aren’t built for seatbelts and I don’t fancy being thrown out of the car when we inevitably crash. 

Once we get past 50 miles an hour, Jake can’t drive any better than Marco can. Minus the trash can massacres. Fortunately, our city is pretty quiet at night. Not too many people are out when Jake swerves his way down Main Street.

Try ducking into a side street. We’re too exposed. I suggest.

“You got it,” Jake says and dings a jeep when he does a turn. 

Oh, God. There’s no way this car is getting back to my uncle, is there?

We don’t hear anything for a while. I count the number of turns Jake does before he parks the car in front of a jewelry store. Well, I say park, but I’m pretty sure the angle he’s at doesn’t actually land it inside a parking space. I bet I’d be good at this. 

“I can’t believe we lost him already,” Marco says.

“Don’t jinx it,” Jake says, rolling down the window for some air.

I’m already thinking of how to get back taking side streets I noted on the way here. Before I can suggest we trade places, a silver van bursts around the corner. It grazes the fender before racing on as if nothing happened.

“Huh?” Marco rubbernecks.

“He acts like he’s being chased,” I say aloud. An idea is forming in my mind. “Jake, let me drive. We’ll get that Yeerk bastard.”

Driving a car isn’t much like flying. Nevertheless, I manage to throw the car into reverse and attain decent speed after Tom. Human eyes suck, but I’m following a van, not a mouse.

“I think he turned left,” Jake says as he demorphs. 

“Then we go right,” I say. “We don’t want to let Tom know we’re after him.”

Marco objects as Jake gives the go-ahead. “No offense Bird-boy, but what exactly are we going to do once we catch him? I know you just can’t resist chasing prey, but we don’t have rope or anything to tie him up with and nowhere to hide him while we starve out his Yeerk.” 

I can imagine Jake’s face going rigid. He’s probably thought about what to do in a situation like this for months. “One step at a time, Marco. Hit it, Tobias.”

Streets are nearly all parallel to each other, so catching up to Tom discretely should be a piece of cake. Or so I believe when I turn right. The road doglegs and dumps us out in front of a row of houses. Rather than risk turning around on a narrow street, I kept driving straight. The road gets twistier… and twistier…

“Where are we?” Jake asks.

“Um,” I say. I read the next street name out loud.

“I swear that’s the name of a street two blocks from my house,” Marco says. “But I don’t recognize anything.”

“Pretty sure Mountain is a common street name everywhere,” Jake says.

Slowly, I bring the car to a halt. I rest my head on the steering wheel. Nice going, birdbrain.

We get out. Stars glisten overhead. Thanks to Ax, I can point out the one the Andalite Homeworld circles. I don’t know the stars well enough to navigate by. I never went that far from my meadow at night. Now I wish I’d used some of that free time to study star charts instead of watching reruns of These Messages with Ax. Again.

Marco finds a map in the back, which he’s studying with equal parts desperation and exasperation on his face. “Ai caramba. No wonder we got lost. This entire section of downtown looks like a Picasso painting of brain coral.”

“Did you just swear in Spanish?” Jake asks.

Not wanting to picture Marco bilingual (weren't his English jokes bad enough) or what a Picasso painting of a brain coral would look like, I focus on rewinding memories. Left… right… right… Had that been a taxi I saw behind the silver van?

“Found us. I think,” Marco holds up the map triumphantly. “Have a look, fearless driver.”

I roll my eyes as Marco points out a section of the map with two streets identical to the ones we can see. “If we go down this street and take two lefts, we’ll be back to Main.”

“Let’s do it,” I say, thinking of Rachel. I wish she could see me drive. I wish Rachel and I could do a lot of things together. Normal stuff. Without demorphing every two hours.

I shake my head to clear the self-pity as we climb back in. Marco rides shotgun with the map just in case. Don’t know why he insists on it. Right, and two lefts don’t sound that hard.

“Once we get back to Main, I’ll devise a cunning plan to get us back on track to the morphing cube. No Yeerks included.” Marco says.

“I doubt Tom has any clue where we are at this point,” I say.

“You can never be too sure,” Marco shoots back. “How do we know he wasn’t the only one following us?”

I thought of the flash of obnoxious yellow I’d seen behind the van. He had a point.

After a couple of turns, it becomes clear that Marco cannot read a map. “Dude, is the highway supposed to be there?” I ask.

Marco slowly lets out a breath. “No.”

That’s when a taxi and a silver van pull up behind us.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this chapter is loosely based on a real incident from my life when friends of mine and I decided to road trip and got seriously lost. It was a blast. You'll find out who's in the taxi next chapter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jake gets a pleasant surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was pretty short and at the same time surprisingly difficult to write. Again, struggled with believable responses to weird situations. Rather than have the majority of the chapter taken up with talking, I left some of the details to the reader's imagination.

“We’re screwed,” Marco says.

“Get ready,” I tell them. Tobias is demorphing. Marco has climbed out of the car, hair already going silver. I glance in the rearview mirror. It’s hard to tell, but I think Tom is alone in the van. If the taxi is completely packed, there can’t be more than five Controllers, total. No Hork-Bajir. 

Easy. 

My vision shifts to subtle greys. Tiger eyes. What I see with them stops my morphing cold. 

Ma is the taxi. Pa is riding shotgun with Tom. When both vehicles come to a halt, Ma pokes her head out the window. “Jake, are you alright?”

My voice catches. It sounds like her. But how could it be if she knew to follow us? What was Pa doing in the van with a Controller?

When I don’t answer, she steps out still in her pajamas. I can’t morph. Which is just as well since she hugs me so tight, she squeezes all conviction she might be a Controller out. Slowly, my vision returns to normal.

“Whoa,” Marco whispers.

I look over Ma’s shoulder and gasp. It’s dark, but not so dark I can’t see that Pa and Tom are out of the van. Or that Pa has a Dracon beam pointed at him. 

Tom says, “See? The squirt looks fine.”

“Quiet,” Pa’s voice is a murmur I barely catch over highway noise.“I’m 98% sure you’re not my kid.”

I can’t help myself. Wrapped in my mother’s arms, tears flow from sheer relief. Ma holds me until I can stop shaking. I miss what Pa says next and Marco’s response. I do see through blurry vision Tom trying one last time to escape. He makes a grab for the Dracon beam. He’s much stronger than Pa.

“Pa!” I scream. I’m afraid for him. The gun could go off while they struggle. I have no idea what setting it’s at.

Bam!

My jaw drops as Tom does. Pa smacked him upside the head with the Dracon beam. Tom falls like a rock to the asphalt. Pa leans over and checks him.

“Jake,” Ma hisses, gripping my shoulders. “What’s. Going. On? What is that thing your father is holding? Who is that?” She points to Tom. “What are you doing out here?”

So, with my friends to back me up, I come clean. 

“It’s a long story, Ma. Everything started a year and a half ago, at the abandoned construction site.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, the chapter was going to involve Jake morphing in front of his parents to disable a Dracon-wielding Tom/Essa 412, but since that would have been too similar to Cassie's chapter, I decided to make his parents more badass and let them handle it. My headcanon is that they suspected something was seriously weird with Tom for some time but until he left his room carrying something out of Star Trek they couldn't pin it down.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Family conference time. In which the thorny problem of being vastly outnumbered is brought to the table. Ax has a suggestion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Animorphs waited so long to expand their numbers (like past the 40th book?) when they could have used more help from the beginning. Now their parents are in on the secret, they want to think bigger. But how to go about it?

Prince Jake is discussing Yeerk matters with his and Rachel’s families, which leaves me with clean up duty. I arrived at his house as a harrier, trusting that he left the van doors unlocked for me to do my work.

I do not mind clean up duty. It is boring but not beneath me as a mere aristh. 

Carefully, I remove the tracer from its hidden compartment inside the van. No doubt, Tom’s Yeerk used it to keep track of potential victims, as well as potential Andalites. Locking the doors, I morph human. It is going to be easier on their families if I appear in a more familiar shape. Cradling the tracer in unusually strong human arms, I head inside. 

Prince Jake’s house is comfortable for a human dwelling. All the furniture is soft and plush like a poodle I once petted. His family is sitting on a cream-colored couch while Rachel and her family sit on the coffee-colored one. I do not understand why each adult has its own subdivision in human families. It sounds unecessarily complicated. Marco’s father is at the dining table with Nora. They are talking quietly. Tobias is perched on a coat rack. Where is Marco? My eyes fall on the Dracon beam, its black and red cylinder frame resting lightly on a table.

“Hi, Ax,” Rachel says.

“Hello, Rachel,” I say. “Prince Jake.”

The woman I take to be Rachel’s mother says, “You must be the uh, Andalite. Before you do anything else, could you disarm that thing?” She points to the Dracon beam.

My lips quirk. “Certainly. Ely. Ly.” 

I remove the power cells from both it and the tracer. This action seems to make everyone more nervous rather than less. I disassemble them in clear view for all, pointing out the components and their functions. I have always been proud of my ability to understand weapons and computers. Rachel’s sisters start to look bored. Somehow, the tension that has been steadily building since my arrival eases. 

“Thank you, Ax,” Prince Jake’s mother says. “But as long as they’re no longer dangerous, we don’t need to know the details.”

I nod. “Thank you for allowing me to demonstrate. Strate. May I ask what you have done with-“ I hesitate for only a second. “The Controller?”

“Closet,” Jake says. “Hog tied.”

“Hog tied?”

“He can’t get out. Marco’s watching him in case he does.”

“Ah,” I say. That is, I believe, the appropriate response. Marco will do his duty well. He always does. 

Marco… causes uncertain feelings in me. I do not know if he shares them, but we have spent so much time together, it feels as though we are more than friends. Just as Tobias is my shorm.

“In that case, ase, ase, I will leave you to your discussion,” I give a little bow.

“Stay,” Prince Jake insists.

I stay, preferring to trade “barbs” with Tobias and to snack as the others work out personal qualms or misunderstandings. 

It sounds as though their parents want to help. Tobias says.

I would hope so, I reply. Their parents would not be good people if they were unwilling to fight for their species’ freedom.

Not everybody has the luxury of a working body and mind, Ax.

Instinctively, my eyestalks twitch in annoyance. Until I remember I have none at the moment. I am aware. I am simply pointing out that with no such barriers to aiding their efforts, the parental units have no reason to refuse.

Did you really just say “parental units?”

I throw a muffin wrap at him. Yes.

You are such a nerd. 

Thank you.

Then Rachel’s father says something I have been dreading.

“I think we need to pass this off to someone more qualified,” he says, adjusting his glasses. “We’re being invaded. None of us knows how to deal with this.”

“Like the military.” Prince Jake’s father agrees. “If anyone knows how to deal with the enemy, it’s them.” 

“If I may speak,” I say. “The Yeerks may have already infiltrated the military. We have no idea-“

Prince Jake is making a strange gesture with his hand at his throat. His father glares at me. “Thank you for your input,” he says icily. “But we’re not fighting a war against hordes of parasites by ourselves. We want to actually have a shot at winning.”

I lower my eyes to the carpet.

“What we need to do is find a way to out infiltrators so at least part of the government is clean.” Rachel’s mother says. 

“Good idea,” Prince Jake says cheerfully. “How do we do that?”

Now my eyes linger on him. He is asking them what to do? I almost argue, but what I like to call my inner Marco voice stops me. Prince Jake is my commander, but he is also a child, just like me. Specifically, he is a son and nephew to these humans sitting around us. It makes sense for him to defer to them. To want to defer to them. 

You okay, Ax-man? Tobias asks.

I… hope Prince Jake makes the right decisions. I say. 

Tobias is silent until it becomes clear that planning has devolved into an argument about the best course of action. They seem to be evenly split between those who want to focus on recruiting the military to our cause and those who would rather focus on healthcare professionals. Prince Jake and Rachel can barely get a word in. 

Looks like he may not be involved in planning anymore, Tobias observes.

Sometimes, I think Prince Jake was right not to want to involve adults. 

Focus. Inner Marco says resolve the conflict. Get everyone to agree on a plan that isn’t half-baked. Whatever that phrase means. 

Humans are weird. 

Slowly, an idea comes together.

It is time to demorph when I announce, “I have a plan. If I may?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was mostly dialogue and I'm kind of worried it's a bit boring. But I can't blip over every scene where people talk, especially an important lead-in like this one. We're getting to the meat-and-potatoes of the story.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The details of Ax's plan are hammered out. Erek asks too many good questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised KA Applegate never had the characters discuss alerting the authorities until very late in the series. It made sense in the beginning when it was just them, but after that, it just seems way too obvious they needed to expand their ranks. You got alien invaders coming? Call the Army, the Marines, the Navy and everyone else whose job it is to defend. It wouldn't have been hard for the Animorphs to find out who was infested among them, whether by spying themselves or simply asking the Chee to do some spying for them. I reread the books where they alert the military and California's governor. KA didn't do so well with those, I feel like. Treated them too much like smaller missions when they required bigger thinking.

Erek furrows his holographic brow. “Mass deinfestation of the military? How is that going to work, Cassie?” 

I don’t like the idea, either. The military is a fighting organization in a war where we don’t have the numbers or the technology. Just because humans outnumber Yeerks by the billions doesn’t mean there will be enough of us. There are people starving to death all over the world. Even more suffering from malnutrition and disease. They can’t fight. Jake once told me that while there are more guns on Earth than people, the number of qualified users is a few hundred million. The number of qualified fighter jet and space shuttle pilots is even smaller. A hundred million people against the Blade Ship, Visser Three, and his hordes in open warfare. 

Horror, if I ever could conceive of it. 

Nobody wanted open war. The Yeerks didn’t because they would lose a lot of good hosts that way. We didn’t want it because we wouldn’t last two months. Probably the only thing we’ll ever agree with Yeerks on.

Fortunately, explaining the plan is on Jake. Everyone is at the Kings’ place with family. “It really means forcing Yeerks to leave their hosts in key positions to allow the truth to spread. This would involve impersonating uninfested military officers or Controllers long enough to blow their cover. We’ll film Yeerks leaving their hosts. Ax will make sure every military base with a radio receiver sees it happen. It’ll be fast and we get out as soon as we can before the Yeerks can retaliate. And you know they will. What kind of response can we expect from them?”

“Um, that’s hard to say,” Erek says. “It wouldn’t be fast because if you take out their agents inside the bases, they won’t be able to suppress the truth. We know it won't involve just bombing everything because that would be counterproductive. We’ve heard rumors of something called Code Black. It’s a strategy for what to do should the world’s leaders become aware of the invasion. I don’t know what it entails, though.”

“Can you find out?” Rachel asks. I am about to ask the same thing.

“I’ll ask Aftran 942. She’ll probably have security clearance to know that.”

Aftran. I’m hoping I’ll get a chance to see her again. I can’t believe she’s working directly for Visser Three right now. And since he’s supposed to be hunting for the YPM, she could make sure he doesn’t find them. Lucky! 

“Now I have a question: what is the military supposed to do once they get this information?” Erek asks.

“Leave,” Jake says. “Go underground with as much evidence as they can gather so they can spread the truth further. We pretty much all agree our government needs to be free and to know about this. We could do like what they did in WWII and have a massive secret resistance. You could probably convince Visser Three’s men they’re gunning down a bunch of soldiers, right?” 

Erek grins. “Better. The other Chee and I could potentially convince them they’ve captured many soldiers to infest. For a while.”

I love how Jake makes even crazy plans seem sensible. And I’m glad Erek’s getting into it. I watch the cautious faces around me carefully. Rachel’s mother is fierce, even as she’s petting a golden retriever. Rachel’s father is staring into his morning coffee. He seems more than a little horrified by where this conversation is going. Jake’s father is unhappy for the same reason, except he wants us to focus on doctors and nurses. It’s tempting to agree with him. I shudder thinking of how many people Yeerks could easily get through hospitals. Of course, the plan as Jake describes it could be repeated in healthcare centers.

Erek purses his lips. “Okay, a couple of things: the first is there aren’t that many of us. The YPM does have headquarters everywhere there are Kandrona pools. We get shuttled all around the country for our regular work so we need multiple secret places to meet. Some of those military bases are a long way away. We’d have to figure out how we’re going to get the personnel to our headquarters safely and how to hide them for an indefinite period. We can’t use the underground transports that the Empire uses to get Controllers from pool to pool.

“Second, we’d need hologram extenders. They’re not too hard to build, but it will take time. We’re looking at a couple of weeks at a minimum. Plus transporting them ahead of time. I think this plan is worth trying but it’s going to need so much prep.”

“Not to mention the timing,” Rachel’s mother says. “I’m no expert on the military, but even if the truth gets broadcasted to every base in the US, couldn’t the higher-ups just suppress it? Chain of command?” 

“What about TVs?” Tobias asks. “Everyone watches TV on break, right?”

We should use the Yeerks’ own communication system, Ax says. They will have installed comms and cameras in every base they have either infiltrated or plan to infiltrate.

“Good idea,” Jake says. “But only Controllers will be watching those comms. How do we get the maximum number of people to see it?”

“TVs,” Tobias repeats. 

My shorm is right. Ax picks up Tobias. The Chee could jam reception for regular television. Yeerks don’t use radio waves, but it’d be simple enough to convert the signals and contribute our own broadcast. 

Erek nods slowly. “I’ll talk to my people about it. See what they think. 

“You know, the military is a bad choice to tattle to. Why not just tell everyone?"

"The Yeerks will go to open warfare if we do. As long as they think they can keep this under wraps, they will," I say.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Erek says. "One, you know Visser Three. Second, we don't know enough about what's supposed to happen if a large number of people suddenly become aware of the invasion. We need to find that out before we go ahead with this."

"That's fair," Jake says.

"Why's the military a bad choice?" I ask.

"Their overseas operations are an arm for the Yeerks. Wanna recruit some hosts in Africa? Send in the soldiers. Want key outposts in South America? Make something up about how they have a dictator in charge that needs toppling.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Dad says. 

“It’s the same for healthcare,” Erek says. “And missionaries.”

“Missionaries?” I raise an eyebrow as my folks curse the Yeerks out. My parents aren’t super religious, but they definitely think accepting the mission of the Lord is important. If they thought the Yeerks could be demonic before, they certainly do now. Erek ignores the question.

“Still, the numbers of Controllers in the military is pretty low. Deinfesting enough of the higher-ups would be pretty much the only way to make this work. Then they could simply order their underlings to evacuate and spread the information further. How are you going to get the Yeerks to leave their hosts?” he asks. “It’s virtually impossible to force a Yeerk who doesn’t want to come out to leave. Especially if they know you’re filming them.”

“They don’t have to know we’re filming them. Yeerks have way better cameras than we do. We’ll filch some. Help us find ways to conceal them on clothing,” Jake says. 

Erek nods. “Okay.”

“As for leaving their hosts, we could pretend to be aware of the conspiracy but curious as opposed to disgusted. That might get a non-defensive reaction. We know voluntary hosts are preferred.”

Erek’s eyebrows go up. He smiles. “I like this. It’s good thinking.”

“It was Ax’s idea. We just hammered out some details.”

He didn’t mention that Ax would be the worst at faking interest in being a host. He hates Yeerks more than the rest of us combined. Ax will handle broadcasting and other tech issues. I wonder how he was the one to come up with the idea. It seems more like a Marco plan.

“Alternatively, we could look into brain chemistry,” Mom says. She turns to Erek. “How do Yeerks respond to changes in human brain chemicals? Maybe a sudden injection of serotonin would disrupt control.”

They’ve been brainstorming ideas like this all night and morning. I don’t know what dismays me more: the fact I didn’t tell them earlier-their ideas have been pretty good in a devious way-or the fact that they are so good at applying the same knowledge they use to save animals to hurt sentient beings.

“Why serotonin?” Dad and Jake’s father ask as Erek nods. “I would think norepinephrine would work better, being an adrenaline enhancer.”

“Or DMT,” Jake’s father smiles wickedly.

“It’s on the table if you can get some and sneak it in,” Jake says and pulls out the blue box. “All in favor? Put your hand on this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the Animorphs expand their numbers. 
> 
> Also, before you all jump on me about how KA Applegate made zero mention of cameras anywhere, this is an AU written for a 2020 audience. Heck, I remember talking about this with my friend in the early 2000s "why don't the Yeerks have cameras? It would be way easier for them to stalk potential victims that way and look for Andalites." 
> 
> I didn't have a good answer to her question (plot convenience?), so I put the cameras in my fanfic along with other pieces of tech that are way too advanced for humans to match. I mean, we had cameras in the 90s but they were still these big bulky things and we certainly didn't have them everywhere. You can imagine the Yeerks have super-advanced GPS, cell phones, and everything else we have in 2020. And I'm not trashing KA for not predicting these technologies. Just saying things will diverge even further from canon here. Also, if you have any suggestions for improvements on the plan, drop them in the comments.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visser Seven arrives on the Blade Ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read Esplin 9466's narration in the Hork-Bajir Chronicles as well as some chapters of Visser to get his tone and character right. I forgot how insecure Visser Three is. I definitely remembered him as the Big Bad who went seriously downhill as the books went on. Most Animorphs fans consider him a joke. In the HB Chronicles, he was competent, even somewhat sympathetic. I wanted to bring that into this chapter because I don't think KA Applegate really intended for him to become a deranged Saturday cartoon villain. 
> 
> It also my pleasure to introduce one of my own characters. Please enjoy the antics of Visser Seven.

Rows of human, Hork-Bajir, and Taxxon personnel stand at attention in red armbands. They are twitchier today than usual. I smile. They should be.

Green lights flashing above indicate the security systems are functioning. I walk among the rows of staff that doesn’t so much as twitch without a word from me. I am unable to taste any dust on the metal floors. Then I check my own reflection in said floor. Not a single thing out of place. Everything is perfect for Visser Seven’s arrival.

Well, that is not completely true. My eyestalks are itching. They always itch when I am nervous. A doctor explained the feedback loops between host and Yeerk when I asked about the possibility of getting rid of these nervous tics. He suggested that the only way to do so was to swap hosts. I hope he does not miss his hand.

I force myself to stand still at the airlock rather than check the weapons lockers and the engine again. It occurs to me a disgruntled employee on the bridge could easily arrange for an accident to occur as Visser Seven transfers over. Or, someone in the ranks behind me could fire from parade rest and it would be Goodbye Esplin. Or, we could find out the Andalite Bandits got on board somehow…

This is not helping.

I keep my eyestalks swiveling around and my hooves pointed forward. Any second.

Thunk.

Visser Seven’s ship has made contact with mine. The docking tube clamps into place and ever so slowly, the iris door midway between ships opens. 

Salute! I raise my hands to shoulder level. Behind me comes the click-snap of guns raised.

Visser Seven walks through the iris door almost serenely. Her human host is clad entirely in purple instead of the typical grey cameo and insert-your-formal-color-choice armband. She also has brought a cat in a carrier.

Welcome aboard, Visser Seven, I greet her.

“Thank you, Visser Three.” As she speaks her elite guard falls into line behind her. “It is good to be here.”

She sounds like she means it. I relax. Where would you like to be taken first? I ask, knowing how she will answer before she does. Quarters or the bridge?

“Actually,” she says. “I think I would like to go to my quarters first.” She gestures to the carrier. 

Oh, right. 

We start to her assigned living space. Everywhere we walk, my soldiers stand at attention. She lets out an impressed, “hmm”. I make note to make such arrangements the next time she visits. Visser Seven takes larger strides in order to match my pace. The carrier bumps against her hip as she walks. “How have you been, Esplin 9466?”

First-name basis. I relax more. I am well, Ersan 125.

Her expression shifts slightly. “I am glad. We have urgent matters to discuss.”

I wait until her back is turned to let my eyestalks droop. This is about the peace movement, I say.

She waves me inside. Hesitantly, I go in. I am aware of what my underlings think of me and can only imagine the gossip that will come out of this. The door shuts before she begins speaking, “no. I’m afraid it’s actually about you.”

The room suddenly feels colder.

What do you mean? I keep my voice steady.

“Officially, I am here to assist you in pest control. A pest known as the Counterwar Movement. I’ve tasted propaganda left on the walls of Kandrona pools myself.” She lets the cat out of its carrier. The delightful little creature hisses angrily at the indignity of its transport method and then moves on to destroy the couch. “It is always good to have cover stories to maintain face during an investigation.”

That is what this is. I am under investigation by the Council of Thirteen. Again. No doubt due to the recent expenses, loss of life, etc. perpetrated by certain Bandits. 

They sent you? I blurt. I am surprised. Surely, they know of my relationship to Ersan 125.

She grins. “Don’t look so surprised. You are my favorite student and you have remained in good standing with the Council for years. Esplin 9466, I am here to help you even as I do my duties.”

What is the catch? I wonder. What I say is, I don’t suppose the Council has reviewed my requests for personnel transfers. That is the main thing I could use assistance with.

She frowns. “Personnel transfers? Those are the domain of Visser One. What has that to do with the Counterwar Movement? Have you found any members among your own ranks?”

Not as such. We have no idea who the members of this group are. Shuffling personnel would be pointless. No, my requests have to do with my staff’s handling of the Andalite Bandits. Despite multiple opportunities to eliminate, capture, or even gather intelligence on the Bandits, my personnel has failed to do so. I do not mention that a transfer would be necessary to replace all of the crippled and traumatized staff I put through my own disciplining techniques. If they just stopped failing, I would not need to do that.

“Esplin 9466!” Ersan 125’s rebuke is sharp and breathy. “As a leader, it is your responsibility when the situation goes sour just as much as it is when it is smooth. I taught you better.”

The floor’s scratches and patchwork caulking are very interesting. Apologies, I say.

Her cat is brushing against my legs and looks up at me pleadingly. Me. Not her. Is… this animal for me?

“Yes,” Ersan 125 says. She sighs. “His name is Bandit.”

I stare at her briefly. Then, the laughter ensues. It has been so long since I laughed. 

Before I can thank her, Ersan 125 slaps a datapad on the table. “Right. Someone will be along with my luggage shortly. I assume you have seen this.”

The report title and date are unfamiliar. No, what is it? I ask.

“Your recent expenses,” she snaps, annoyed with me again.

I scroll down to view the numbers. Slowly, the pad slips out of my hands. 

We are broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the biggest problems with Visser Three's character is that he wasn't really an interesting villain in the main series and he wouldn't become interesting unless he had to think. I decided if I am going to write about him, I would make him think. That requires a character that can call him out on his terrible decisions without being immediately executed and take his side. It also requires some extra pressure. =)


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks later, Jake, Ax, and the other Animorphs get the plan going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the books, the Animorphs don't make much use of Chee technology except for holograms. While those are useful, I'm sure there are other ways their tech could come in handy.

Sneaking into a military base is easy when you can morph. Easier when you have an ancient, highly advanced android as an ally. The Chee with us this time isn’t Erek, but one of the rare ones who specialize in infiltrating organizations with a violent bent. I suppose it should have crossed my mind that even if the Chee don’t use violence themselves, they would want to keep tabs on those who do. I wonder how this Chee dealt with the contradictions in his programming as he’s getting us through security. 

The guard waves us in. “Welcome back, Major Armstrong.”

Our Chee salutes back. At least, I think that’s what he’s doing. Fly vision isn’t so good even when we’re not clinging to the underside of a collar or sleeve.

Here comes the nerve-wracking part: the Gleet biofilter. It’s supposed to fry anything that isn’t human or Yeerk. And, I suppose, Hork-Bajir, Taxxon, and Andalite. 

Here we go. Stay cool, I tell everyone.

My entire body hums as the filter and Armstrong’s personal force field clash.

We’re safe.

It’s a good thing flies aren’t that big or the six of us letting out our breath would have been very noticeable. After several more minutes, Armstrong says, “it’s safe to demorph now.”

Six flies buzz off of him and become teenage mutants. Well, six teenage mutants and one Yeerk. Cassie is carrying a YPM member named Nyza 470 in her head. (Whom I don’t entirely trust since a) she’s a Yeerk and b) for whatever reason, she’s willing to fight against her own people.) Armstrong hands me the list of soon-to-be Controllers and a highlighted map before I finish demorphing. “Good luck.” 

I scan the list. The Chee’s handwriting is neat and precise: Sargeant Audrey Dewitt. Scheduled to be infested during meeting with Adm. Orlander at six tonight. Capt. Harrison. Likely to go voluntarily. Having addiction issues. Scheduled to be infested at six. 

“All the times are the same,” I say. “They really do round us up like cattle, don’t they?”

“Wouldn’t someone notice?” Cassie asks. At least, I think it’s Cassie.

“Some of these meetings were scheduled weeks in advance,” Armstrong says, going to his desk and shuffling papers. He glances them over before getting up again. “The Yeerks haven’t lasted this long by being sloppy. Remember: come back here after you acquire your targets. If you get in trouble, don’t come back here. I have cover to maintain. Time for me to get your parents.”

I roll my eyes. I’m also nervous. Ma is with Rachel’s parents and Cassie’s parents outside the base, likely still in bird morph to avoid being detected. They’re supposed to be strictly back up. They haven’t been on any missions and just barely started practicing. If fighting breaks out, it wouldn’t matter how much they want to protect us. They won’t be able to. 

“Okay,” I say, fighting the nervousness down. Everyone is looking at me. “Here’s the list. It looks like they’re not after anyone below the rank of sargeant.”

“That’s high, right?” Cassie again. Though Rachel and Marco don’t look too sure of their military knowledge, either. 

“Pretty up there,” I say, just in time to get smacked in the side of the head with a small bag full of Yeerk cameras. “Ow!”

Armstrong is already out the door. Ignoring him, I hand out the cameras and we go over who impersonates whom. Ideally, we would like to do this with minimum violence. Mr. King threw some devices together that if we stick them onto our targets, will cause them to hold still long enough to acquire and impersonate them. The trick is getting the device on them while they’re in their quarters.

I opt for going lizard in the vents again. Not anole lizard. Iguana. I have to be big enough to carry the camera in my mouth. Erek’s immobilizer is stuck to my forehead, courtesy some epoxy glue. 

I make so much noise clunking around its amazing no one notices me. At least, that’s what Rachel says. Rachel opted for bat. Probably a smart decision since she doesn’t have to carry the camera in her mouth. But her immobilizer is on her back.

I can see through weak lizard eyes light coming through the vent slits. And a foot. Perfect.

Three, two, one. Bam!

I hit the vent at full speed. Hopefully, the immobilizer stays in place instead of falling off or getting stuck in the vent. I wasn’t sure about Marco’s idea no matter how much he talked up the merits of thermoset glue. 

I grab the foot as I’m demorphing. Muscles clench under my weak grip, but the immobilizer does its job. It’s a good thing the Chee are on our side.

I morph Captain Harrison. Check the clock. Ten minutes to six. An hour and fifty-nine minutes left in morph. I stand the real Harrison in a comfortable position by his bed. Just in case he falls over. Waste another fifteen minutes struggling with his uniform and the camera, which conveniently replaces the top button.

I can’t resist walking around a little first. I’m probably not going to see anything like this for a while. The base is all hard angles and cool lighting. It’s strangely like an art exhibit of some kind and, I slowly realize, familiar. The Yeerks must have built this base. It follows the same layout as their Kandrona pool.

I salute anyone I see, including Rachel as Sergeant Dewitt. Tobias and Marco are off impersonating other officers across the base. Cassie/Nyza 470 is down at the Kandrona pool on an “unofficial assignment by Visser Three”. 

I don’t know how I feel about her being a host yet.

“Sightseeing?” Rachel whispers. 

“I’m not,” I say. 

She sticks her tongue out at me. I can’t lie to my cousin. But I can lie to “Adm. Orlander”. Though, having been an involuntary host, it’s not going to be easy pretending to be voluntary.

I never get the chance. As soon as Rachel and I walk into the Admiral’s office, he pulls out a Dracon beam and shoots us.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Jake meet Kandrona pool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame my lack of imagination for the lack of kickass Yeerk speeches in this chapter. Not that Rachel would be impressed no matter how good the speech was. I actually have no idea how you would convince people to let you take over their bodies on the fly, so... yeah, this chapter got away from me.

Jake and I go tumbling to the floor. My body is pins and needles while my nose is in the carpet. Bleh! I can barely twitch my toes and fingers. I can hear Jake struggling to move as well and feet calmly coming towards us. 

What the hell? I’m thinking. Why did he shoot us? Does he know we’re not Dewitt and Harrison? 

I’m lying on my stomach. The camera likely can’t see anything right now. But I hope it’s still rolling.

“Adm. Orlander” hauls me up. Smiles. Answers my question. “Hello, little ape. We’re going to take a little trip.” I almost go limp with relief. He doesn’t know. He just thinks he’s taking some oblivious officers by surprise. Still holding me, he pushes a button on his desk and a section of the floor sinks slightly. He hauls Jake up. Even if I could resist, I wouldn’t. I know where he’s taking me and that would be a million times more convincing than just forcing a Yeerk or two to leave its host. We go down.

And down.

And down.

Wherever we land isn’t too close to the pool because we walk, laboriously, over to Hell. Erek said the cameras can take an amazing amount of abuse, especially when they’ve got the dressings to make them look like buttons. I can hear screams several seconds before we arrive.

This Kandrona is much smaller than the one under our school. About the size of a swimming pool. It’s still teeming with Yeerks. There’s almost no one in cages. Just a few Hork-Bajir and maybe eight humans. I can’t see the very back of the pool well. My blood boils despite the paralysis. There’s a couple of voluntaries just standing around. I know they’re real humans because they point at us and call our “names”. Perversely, “Adm. Orlander” props us up next to a caged Hork-Bajir. I’m inches away from its blades. The threat is obvious.

Satisfied, “Adm. Orlander” looks at each of us in the face, and, to my delight, practically at the camera. Yes, give our viewers a really good look at you. His face is a mixture of cruel and rapturous. “You two are very lucky. You have a chance to join the glorious Yeerk Empire.” With that, he launches into a speech about going to the stars and how our lives will be infinitely better if we’d only choose to join. He even has the two voluntaries talk about their shitty lives before becoming hosts to show how much better off they are. I’m watching the digital clock above the pool so I don’t laugh. Does he really think speeches about power would impress us?

“If not,” he finishes. “I’m afraid you’ll end up like your colleagues over there.” He gestures towards the cages.

“Don’t do it!” A guy screams.

“Some choice,” Jake mutters.

“Yeah,” I agree. About thirty minutes left. Admiral Yeerkface can sure talk. But he was nice enough to explain everything for our audience.

“This is for your own good,” the “Admiral” says. “Now, decide. Which side of the fence are you on?” 

We clamp our mouths shut. No heroics. Nothing that could give us away. Just silence.

He chuckles. “Too bad. The place won’t be quite so nice if this becomes a trend. Oh, well. Kill the ape, save the man.” He claps.

The voluntaries come forward. They easily haul us up over to the pool. Jake’s eyes are wide. Mine are, too. Try as I might, I can’t do much besides wiggle a finger or two. How am I supposed to fight?

What do we do? I ask as the voluntaries get our upper bodies leaning over the pier. 

Morph! He answers.

I squint at him. We can’t go into battle morphs without demorphing first. He jerks his head towards the pool. The pool liquid is pretty opaque. No! He doesn’t mean...

I flash him a manic grin. This has to be a terrible plan. But it’s all we got.

The voluntaries push on our heads. I wiggle my feet, enough to send me over the edge of the pier. Into the pool. 

As soon as my entire body is submerged I start demorphing. Struggle to get out of DeWitt’s uniform. Think, Rachel! No Yeerk morph. If I just grab one of these little slimy guys… Each hand gets several Yeerks. But I only need one. I can feel them trying to wriggle their way out. I start acquiring and they go limp. 

Now for something I really didn’t want to do. 

I morph a Yeerk. 

The first thing to go is my eyes. They diminish and stretch into flexible stalks. My mouth shifts, becoming toothless and flat. My limbs pull into my trunk and I shrink. Smaller. Smaller. Smaller. Until all the Yeerks around me are roughly the same size.

Ahh. It’s so relaxing here.

Wait. No, I have to escape. I’m Rachel, the human! How does this body work?

A Yeerk’s instincts as it turns out, are quite similar to a bat’s. And an ant’s. With my antennae, I can taste everything around me. The surprise of my fellow Yeerks. Their confusion and anger. And something quite foreign. Jake! Why haven’t you morphed? I ask.

I have. I’m a trout. 

Oh. Eww. 

What?

That’s what I’m tasting.

Tasting? Rachel, you didn’t-

I thought morphing Yeerk was your plan!

Ugh. Never mind. Follow me. There’s an opening we can go through.

He’s right. As I follow the strange flavor (I’m not the only one to do so) sonar pings detect what’s clearly a filter off to the left. I remember when we snuck on board the water-gathering ship. Third mission. Complete disaster. Let’s hope this goes better.

Smack!

A Yeerk hit me! It latches onto me with its mouthparts. My side stings. To my horror, more Yeerks are forming a circle around me. Jake! I call.

They’ve got me, too! Strong little guys! 

I can’t demorph. No oxygen I can breathe. I whip my little pseudotail as fast as I can only to feel the sting of mouthparts grabbing onto it. They’re nibbling me to death, I realize. What an embarrassing way to go.

Whooooosh!

For a moment, it feels like we’re in free fall. Then, Jake, Yeerks, and I are thrown together in one huge slimy lump as the pool begins to drain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speech aside, canonically, Cassie is the only one with a Yeerk morph. But as this chapter's plot was getting away from me, I wondered what would happen if other Animorphs did it. Rachel doesn't have much time to think about it and I think she would have gotten more out of it under better circumstances.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ax gets the job done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter also got away from me. I enjoy writing from Ax's perspective (and rereading his books) especially when he kicks anatomy. It's also fun to give him challenges.

My hearts nearly stop when I see the Kandrona pool draining. There are approximately twelve screens in front of me, each showing a different scene inside or outside the base. I check the other screens quickly to make sure that Marco, Tobias, or Cassie/Nyza 470 were not somehow responsible for that. Sure enough, I spot Cassie/Nyza 470 in morph standing in front of the operating controls as if nothing has gone wrong. 

I can see but not hear what is happening. The other Controllers start toward Cassie/Nyza 470, but something that she says stops them. I do not see what happens next because I am too busy making sure that a directive I receive to inform Visser Three of Andalites present does not get obeyed. Yeerk communications systems are just bad copies of Andalite technology. I have made sure that the Visser will eventually get word of our presence. Eventually. 

I wonder why the alert system does not automatically inform the Visser of Andalites directly. Perhaps some wise Yeerk technician thought it might be better to let security breaches remain an internal affair. Alternately, the universe could have decided to be nice to me for once.

My part in the plan involves morphing a communications specialist and disabling security. I had to morph an officer in order to get to where I need to be. Taking over comms proved to be remarkably easy with access to my tail blade and Dracon beams. I simply knocked the surprised personnel unconscious and melted their weapons. According to Armstrong, communications specialists at this base monitor transmissions from enemy nations and coordinate efforts with other bases. That means regular updates and check-ins. With luck, no one will notice anything has gone wrong, as I will only be here long enough to expose the Yeerks. 

Speaking of Armstrong, I watch him address soldiers assembled in the Commons briefly before turning on the televisions. The Yeerks built their communications system to mirror the human one so they could maintain their cover while monitoring transmissions. Yeerks may be despicable, but they are cunning. When the time is right, he will send me the footage the Animorphs have recorded and I will make sure it hits every base with a radio receiver. At this time, everyone will be watching an address by the American president about China’s missile tests. 

Foolish how these humans are always fighting each other, I think. It is the last thing we need when we are about to show them a real enemy.

Someone goes to Armstrong. By zooming in with the camera lens, I can read his lips. “Andalites!”

Not quite, I think. But you don’t need to know that. 

I scramble all Yeerk codes coming out of this base. With luck, the Yeerks inside will realize the “Andalite Bandits” have sabotaged them and panic.

Where are the parents? I nearly panic myself when I realize I have lost track of them. Armstrong has to have brought them in by now. 

I see them! They are in uniform among the crowds of soldiers clustered around the TVs. I have to silence the alarms as the cameras have detected their unfamiliar faces. Error. Please input the command code override. 

This computer is smart. Not being a Yeerk officer, I do not have a command code override. I must think fast because this computer is seconds away from alerting the entire base!

“Jorak 548 calling Fiss 1796. Answer!” blasts from the pile of clothing I left on the floor. 

I have an idea. Rather than answer, I look for Armstrong’s page number. I try to remember his Yeerk’s name as I hastily morph back into Fiss 1796’s host. “This is Fiss 1796 calling Drosk 322. Require assistance in comms.”

“Drosk 322,” I hear Armstrong’s voice. “On my way.”

I let out the breath I have been holding as Armstrong heads out of the crowded room. Unfortunately, that means no one will be there with the Animorphs’ parents on their first mission. 

They do not seem to be attracting attention, I notice. Perhaps this will not go so badly. But this is a small base. Surely someone must have realized they do not belong here by now. This sort of thing would be unthinkable among Andalites. Perhaps they have simply had a lot of personnel shuffling. That would make sense if the Yeerks are steadily infiltrating the military.

“Fiss 1796!” My belt buckle is yelling at me. “Answer, damn it!”

“Have you found the Bandits?” I ask, trying not to laugh. Perhaps I can distract the computer while Armstrong gets here by messing with internal comms. I do not want the Yeerks watching TV to be able to contact the ones at the pool, after all. 

“No. That stupid bitch the Visser sent flushed them along with the rest of our pool mates!”

“So, they will be trapped in the sewage system. What exactly is the problem?”

“The problem, you Dapsen, is that there are usually six of them. Where are the other four?! What’s the point of having cams if you can’t fucking find them?!”

“I don’t see any wild animals,” I say testily. “I assume they are in morph as personnel. Not so easy to find.”

The Yeerk lets out a string of curses. “Let me know the instant you see something suspicious.”

“I will.”

I look for Marco and Tobias. They should have morphed by now. I can see them threatening a Controller with a Dracon beam. The Controller’s Yeerk is exiting his ear. Excellent.

The door creaks open and Armstrong arrives. “You called?” 

I give him credit. He does not even blink at me. I did not have time to put the uniform back on so all I am wearing at the moment is a belt. A belt that is blasting commands from desperate Controllers.

“Yes,” I say. “This computer requires an override.”

As Armstrong puts in the code, I continue to listen. It sounds as though they are setting up an ambush for Jake and Rachel. When Cassie/Nyza 470 reverses the flow of pool water, all of the Yeerks will return… along with Jake and Rachel. Whatever Cassie/Nyza’s plan is, I hope it works. I do not yet I trust the YPM member not to get Jake and Rachel captured or killed.

“Done,” Armstrong says. “I’ve got the footage ready.”

“Then I will patch it through,” I say.

We watch as the president’s face on the TVs is replaced with Admiral Orlander’s. Although I still cannot hear anything, I can see the shock in the faces of the soldiers. The footage continues to play, switching back and forth between shots from Jake, Marco, Tobias, Cassie, and Rachel’s cameras. Armstrong must have edited the footage because we do not see a Yeerk leave its host until after Adm. Orlander has explained what Yeerks are. I demorph, keeping my main eyes on the soldiers and my eyestalks on my friends. Over the next half hour, the ambush at the pool is set. Marco and Tobias have crawled into a vent to demorph in privacy. 

“Aximili,” Armstrong points to the soldiers. They are laughing.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esplin 9466 is living the thug life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a lot better in terms of not getting away from me. It's not the most interesting, but we need to see the Yeerk response to the Animorphs' actions. Also, because of when this is set, it's about right for the events leading up to Visser. Which is interesting.

I have never been broke before. Twelve hours in, I can tell you it is not a pleasant experience. I issued an order that all resources are to be conserved as long as possible. But it is only a matter of time before what little we have runs out. Then, we shall have to get a lot more creative.

We Yeerks are good at creativity. We battled the Andalites with close to nothing for thirty years and still managed to come out on top. 

Visser Seven does not find this reassuring. “Esplin 9466, usually when an army goes broke, it has to turn back or else live off of what is available nearby. That would be fine if this were an open invasion like Leera’s. In fact, I might suggest to Edriss 562 that her soldiers intensify their use of resources while decimating the Leerans’ agriculture.”

She will have a hard time leading the invasion from a detention cell, I say.

“What?!” Ersan 125 whirls on me. “Who would have the nerve to put Visser One in a detention cell?!” Her face shifts from shock to horror. “What have you done?”

I arrested a traitor who helped a band of terrorists escape. I reply. We tortured a confession out of her after my personnel located some… interesting footage she planned to use to embarrass me in front of the Council.

We are in my office going over personnel reports to see if we could elucidate matters on the peace movement. So far, we have identified, with the help of my new head of security, several individuals engaged in unexplainable activity. I close my main eyes proudly. Despite all the setbacks, everything is proceeding smoothly.

Visser Seven has her head in her hands. No doubt dismayed to see one of her brightest students sink so low. Aftran 492 quietly excuses herself to return to patrol.

You did always say loyalty to the empire comes before personal vendettas, I say soothingly. Edriss 562 forgot that. She did everything in her power to make certain that I would not become competition. 

“What sort of foolish games did the two of you get up to?” I blink at her response. “Interesting footage, you said? I doubt it would show anything I have not seen since I arrived. You have done nothing less than execute every personnel member who so much as looks at you the wrong way. I am here because the Council is none too pleased with your handling of the invasion thus far. And now that I am here, I can see why you’ve made so little progress.”

My tail droops. What am I to say to that? The implication is clear, but it is nothing I did not already know. I have failed. I did so in the past and I continue to disgrace myself in front of my subordinates and now my favorite teacher. But I have come too far to back down. If I show weakness, that invites anyone and everyone to replace me.

What must I do? I ask finally.

Visser Seven takes a long time to answer. “Let’s see… the Council doesn’t yet know about Edriss 562. We can put her on trial, but we must do it by the book. Don’t give them any reason to hold you in further contempt. As for the Counterwar Movement, I think they will show themselves eventually. Especially with certain pesky Bandits causing so much trouble. We’ll start to see more outcry against the invasion as things get worse. That’s when you give them a victory.

“You must show them that our way is righteous and that, in the long run, it is the only way. Peace will just put us back under Andalite hooves.” 

I nod. A thought occurs to me. If peace is starting to look attractive, it may mean that- WHOEVER IS PACING IN FRONT OF THE DOOR, QUIT IT BEFORE I LOP YOUR HEAD OFF! 

The irritating noise ceases. I take a deep breath and turn my attention back to Ersan 125. As I was saying, under normal circumstances, being broke would be massively disheartening. But if my personnel are already caving, learning the truth could send them over the edge. They might all join this blasted peace movement.

“How do you propose to keep this a secret?” Visser Seven raises her eyebrows as if this were forty years ago and she was giving me a difficult math problem to solve.

I can’t. I say. However, I might be able to use it to explain my behavior. Anyone faced with imminent bankruptcy would be stressed, no? If I am to regain control over the situation, I must first regain control of my own image. I know my underlings think poorly of me. That’s why they are always failing me. 

“I’m glad you realize that. You know, Esplin 9466, it is not so terrible a thing to admit to being wrong. It can happen to anyone.”

I stare at her. But… mistakes are a sign of weakness. You taught me that yourself. 

Her brow crinkles. “I know. And I regret that. Mistakes are inevitable. I’ve come to realize since joining the military that how a leader handles mistakes is what makes them strong or weak.”

I am a strong leader. I assure her, once her words have sunk in. And while I respect you greatly, I hope you are not about to tell me how to do my job.   
Was that a flicker of sadness in her eyes? Her face quickly becomes stone again and she says, “of course not. I was merely offering advice from a teacher to a student.”

She turns back to my computer, that expression of sadness creeping back in. I want to inquire as to what is bothering her, but a loud banging halts any further attempt at conversation.

“Vissers! Something is happening!”

The door slides open and a nervous human-Controller (I have long since given up learning the names of guards) peers in.

“You’ll have to be more specific than that,” Ersan 125 says.

I don’t bother to stifle a snicker.

“The Andalite Bandits… they’ve blown our cover. To the entire US military!”

Visser Seven doesn’t waste a second. Fiercely, she glances at me and nods. 

Don’t worry. I tell the guards. We have a contingency plan for that. Where is Aftran 942? I will need my Chief of Security to proceed. I will also need the heads of the Weapons Division and Conversion. Tell them they will have a field day.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftran gets a scolding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we get to the good stuff. The Animorphs' plan is in full swing and the Yeerk response is shaping up.

I’ve barely gotten back when a harried human-Controller bursts into my office. “Chief! Vissers want you back!”

I don’t shake in my skin. No one would blame me given that my screen is flashing Code Black. Code Black means the discovery of our invasion force. Something we never thought would happen on Earth. I was surprised until I saw who was responsible and helped them out. 

But even if the Vissers do end up executing me, whether because they torture a confession out of me or are simply displeased with my “incompetence”, it’s no use being afraid. I simply nod my Hork-Bajir head at him. “Return to your post, private,” I say.

He nods gratefully and I start back down the main hallway to Visser Three’s office. I don’t have much time to speculate what my fate might be before I am joined by two familiar fellow Yeerks. 

“Aftran 942, what do you think the Visser wants to see us for?” Galto 711 asks me. Galto 711 is head of Conversion, or convincing potential hosts to join willingly. His host is tiny, even for a human. He barely comes up to my Hork-Bajir host’s waist.

“Well, given that he called me, you, and Kestell 930, I’d say he is about to mount a large-scale assault,” I reply.

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Kestell 930 says. Kestell 930 is head of the weapons division and his host is a hulking man. He’s shorter than but almost as bulky as my host. I’ve only met with him and Galto 711 a few times, but I make it a point to befriend everyone as I go up the ranks. “That’s not in the invasion plan. I bet he’s finally lost it. Just wants to smoke everything.” His hand goes to the pocket of his lab coat. He gives us a conspiratorial glance. “If he starts morphing, I’ll throw this and we all run.”

I chuckle. “What is that?” 

Kestell 930 smiles and waggles his human eyebrows at me. I have no idea what that is supposed to mean. Galto 711 shakes his head. “We’ll never get off the ship,” he mutters.

“Quiet,” I say. “We’re here.”

The door slides open like blood dripping from a wound. Visser Three has his back to us, stalk eyes watching carefully. Visser Seven is sitting down watching the 2-D holograph of Earth occupying an entire wall.

Ah. Good of you to come, Visser Three says. He gestures to appropriately sized chairs next to Visser Seven. I have important matters to discuss. Sit.

We sit. Stupid thing to get murdered over, not sitting when asked. Kestell 930 still has his hand by his pocket. Just in case.

We don’t have much time, but I believe I have uncovered the Andalite Bandits’ newest plan. Visser Three touches the hologram and it zooms in on the United States. Seven yellow dots light up across the West and East coasts, with a couple in the Midwest. Not half an hour ago, they put out a broadcast that exposes our existence. Somehow, they were able to film Yeerks leaving their hosts and a Kandrona pool. They have sent this footage to every military base in the country using our own communication system. He turns his head to fix his stare on me. I meet his gaze without missing a beat. It’s true that as Chief of Security, I should have foreseen and dealt with any weaknesses in our comms. These dots show the bases we have personnel in. We haven’t been unable to contact anyone as of eight minutes. What little we had before the blackout suggested our Controllers were overpowered by the humans.

“The question is, why?” Visser Seven says. “What has changed?”

Kestell 970, Galto 711, and I exchange glances. “Er, you’re here?” 

FOOLS! Visser Three bellows. If the Bandits wanted her dead, they would have found a way to get onboard by now!

We brace ourselves, but no blows hit. No morphing. Just bruised egos. 

Aftran 492, his voice is cold. Remind everyone here what is procedure should a large group of humans suddenly become aware of our presence.

I straighten my shoulders. “Operation Clean Sweep. Prevent any more information leakage. Capture as many potential hosts as possible. Destroy any loose ends.”

“The broadcasts have ended. It looks like the Bandits are content to leave that knowledge with the US military,” Visser Seven is starting to fidget. 

“For now,” Galto 711 says. “We can expect massive resistance from such a powerful branch of government. Sadly, all that will likely happen if we commence with Clean Sweep is that we’ll lose a lot of good host bodies. The military will fight. What else do they do? But they can’t win.”

Kestell 930 nods. “We still have our supply of modified nerve gas for Code Black,” he tells Visser Three.

Enough to hit every base we need to and rescue our people? Visser Three asks.

I blink at him. Does he want to rescue the Controllers trapped down there? Of course, he does, I realize. Leaving them down there is proof the humans could take to their still-free leaders. We can’t have that. Once we pick them up, Visser Three will probably have them executed for failing to stop the Animorphs’ broadcast. What exactly are the Animorphs up to?

“Yes,” Kestell’s answer snaps me out of my thoughts. “If we spread out our forces over the country, we can gas those bases before the humans ever see us coming.”

Visser Three touches the hologram. It pulls back to show the northern hemisphere from orbit and our forces: Pool ship, Bug fighters, and the Vissers’ Blade Ships. He says Operation Clean Sweep in full force would require a massive transportation effort. Rounding up witnesses to the nearest Kandrona pool. Moving all extraneous hosts to the Pool ship. What do you notice?

The holographic Bug Fighters descend. Right away, I can spot a problem. “That leaves almost nothing to defend the Pool ship,” I say.

Visser Three nods at me. Yes. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem as there’s no reason to suspect an attack. But what we know about the Bandits suggests distraction is their favorite tactic. Even if they don’t know the details of Clean Sweep, they must know we won’t just let our secret continue to spread. He looks at Visser Seven and then at each of us in turn. 

“So, this is a distraction,” I say slowly. “That makes sense. There’s no way the Bandits would be stupid enough to think any Earth military would have a chance against us. But what is it meant to divert our attention from?”

Visser Seven nods. I relax my grip on my host’s brain before I injure her. Sorry, I whisper to Boku. I’m nervous.

You and me both, she replies. 

I have good reason to believe if we follow through with Clean Sweep as written, there will be a devastating attack on the Pool ship. Visser Three continues. I received notice from the Intelligence division that the Andalite fleet has officially broken up. They’re tired of chasing sensor ghosts as one large group and are instead sneaking around in groups of fifteen or more ships. They’ve successfully inflicted damage to our bases at Oralis and Furomsa already. 

Visser Seven almost jumps from her chair. “What? Why haven’t I heard this?”

Your sector is further from both worlds, Visser Three replies dryly. We have more to worry about here. I would not put it past the Bandits to have found a way to keep in touch with the Andalite fleet. 

Visser Seven’s face is stone. “But you’re wrong, and we don’t commence with Clean Sweep, we risk having to move to open invasion. When we’re broke.”

All valid points, from the way the Vissers are glaring at each other. “If I may make a suggestion?” I ask.

You have already failed once. Visser Three snaps. Sit there and learn. 

I shrink into my seat and try to look as attentive as I can.

Visser Three addresses the room. We will commence with Clean Sweep. Skeletal forces only. Use the nerve gas on the seven bases. Rescue our people. I’m not so concerned if we can’t round up every human who saw the broadcast. Those unaware will likely dismiss it as a prank of some sort. Meanwhile, the bulk of our forces need to stay here with the Pool ship. We can shuttle new hosts up here as needed using our Blade Ships. Intelligence will figure out how the Bandits took over our comms so easily. Then, if there is an Andalite force waiting to attack, we’ll find them and deal with them.

It all made too much sense. As far as I know, the Animorphs only managed to contact the Andalite Homeworld once. I have no idea if they could do it again, much less coordinate with a strike force out to smoke us. I didn’t believe for a second that was their plan… they said they wanted peace.

One thing is for sure, whatever their plan is, it’s going to make peace harder to achieve. The more people die, the less likely anyone will want to imagine an end to the war. 

One thing at a time, Aftran, I tell myself.

“Let me go down there,” Visser Seven says. “I’ll take care of Clean Sweep with my own forces. You protect the Pool ship.” 

Visser Three nods slowly. Are you sure? You don’t have combat experience.

“I’ve been wanting to get some. How can I pass up the chance to face off against brave Andalite warriors?” Visser Seven grins. 

If you wish. Visser Three glares back at us. Don’t fail. Dismissed.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tobias and Marco set up an ambush for an ambush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of all the chapters I've written, I feel that the ones where Tobias narrates are the most like actual Animorphs stories. This is an almost classic attack-the-Yeerk-pool scene. The next one coming up is going to be challenging to write.

Marco and I are crawling through the vents as roaches. Cassie/Nyza 470 warned us of an ambush set for Jake and Rachel. They temporarily fixed the problem by draining the pool, but now they have to reverse it back. We need to be in a position to surprise the Controllers before they can gun our friends down.

So, I’m thinking we drop down from the ceiling, Marco is saying. 

Let me go first, I say.

Worried about your girlfriend? Marco teases.

Really? No, dude. I demorph to hawk and attack. You have to demorph to human and then leave the vent to morph gorilla.

True, true.

We’re navigating by smell since roaches don’t have good eyes and there’s no one to be our eyes for us. The Kandrona pool has a pretty distinct sour scent, so it’s easy to know when we’ve arrived directly overhead. I demorph. When my wings emerge, I knock the vent cover off.

“Tseeer!” 

“Argh!” 

As usual, I go for the eyes. I nail one Controller and then duck behind him to avoid Dracon fire. I don’t see where Marco is now, but I know he’ll join me as soon as he can. My only hope now is close combat. Dracon beams aren’t so good for that. Even so, I lose several feathers and one shot hits me right in the eye. I don’t think. I just start to morph. 

I land on top of a Controller just as my tail blade forms. The Controllers yelp and redouble their efforts, but ham-sized fists come at them from behind. 

Whooosh! The pool is refilling.

I can only take quick glances, but I don’t see any trace of Jake or Rachel. Perhaps they escaped while the Yeerks were… wherever they were. I nail another Controller but not before he shoots me in the chest. 

Don’t think. Morph.

No time for pain, Tobias.

I reel, bleeding out onto the edge of the pool. Another Controller several feet away takes aim at me. My hooves slip on blue-black blood. Vision swims. I can’t…

Blorp. 

A hammerhead shark emerges from the pool and collides with the Controller. Slam! It latches onto the hand clutching the Dracon beam. His screams ring in my ears.

You okay, Ax-man?

Jake!

A bear climbs out of the pool. Lumbering forward, Rachel makes quick work of the remaining two Controllers. Marco is bleeding profusely, but demorphing. We would be so dead if morphing didn’t fix injuries. I still wonder how it does that. I demorph.

Actually, I’m Tobias. I tell him.

Oh. Sorry. Jake releases the limp Controller and demorphs. 

Now what? Rachel asks.

“The broadcast is going,” Cassie/Nyza 470 says. She has been watching the pool fill, likely to make certain the Yeerks are unharmed. “It sounds like no one believes it though. I can hear laughing, along with some audible sighs of relief.”

“Damn it!” Rachel has demorphed. She stomps over to me. “What are we supposed to do if no one believes us?”

“Hold on,” Cassie/Nyza 470 says. She touches her belt and the volume gets louder.

“-Risked their lives to show you the truth! We have to fight for our freedom.”

“That’s my dad,” Cassie says, unnecessarily. He continues talking, affirming everything the footage showed. Injecting his own experience with the Peace Movement into the story.

“It is true,” we hear Armstrong’s voice and then echoes from the officers we forced Yeerks out of. Marco and I high-five. Or talon, in my case. 

We head back up. I morph to human as we think about how we’re going to do this. Cassie/Nyza 470 keeps the comms open. Our parents have fallen silent. There’s a standoff between Armstrong, officers/personnel who believe him, and the remaining Controllers and skeptics. The elevator seems to take forever to get us up. 

“Has our identity been revealed?” Jake asks Cassie/Nyza 470.

“No,” they reply. “As far as everyone in the base is concerned, this is a purely internal affair. Accusations have been made. Denials all around. The remaining Controllers are trying to convince everyone else they’re not aliens. No one seems to know who to believe.”

“This plan was a lot better in my head,” Jake mutters. “I was hoping we’d get to talk to some of the officers after they’d been freed.”

“We did,” I offer. 

“Poor guys,” Marco adds. “They were terrified they’d be ridiculed and then recaptured.”

“They might still be,” Cassie/Nyza 470 says darkly. “Ax could only delay the alert to our presence. Visser Three will be here eventually. He doesn’t care how much damage he does as long as he can catch his quarry.”

“He’s going to be disappointed,” Rachel grins. “They’re explaining the plan right now. It sounds like even Controllers that aren’t on our side might agree to it.”

“But we can’t let this get out of hand. We have to be out of here soon or when the Yeerks show up in force it’ll be a massacre,” Jake says. 

“It sounds like they’re-“

BAM!

We barely have time to register the sound before the force of an explosion from above knocks us to the ground.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armstrong must convince a skeptical group of military personnel the invasion is real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter. Ugh. I wrote three different versions of this and this version is the one I dislike least. All three versions got away from me but at least this one didn't involve any clones of standoff scenes from movies I've watched. Welcome any suggestions for improvement.

I currently have a Dracon beam I brought from my office pointed at the remaining Controllers in the Commons. Being Chee, I cannot use it on a lethal setting. However, I am determined to give them a chance to surrender and to prove my point further about the invasion. (After all, if I shoot them and the Yeerks don’t leave their hosts, it will simply look like I have committed treason.) The Controllers are having none of that. They have spread out, ready to bolt. Officers the Animorphs freed join me carrying their own Dracon beams, herding the Controllers back into the center of the room. Their facial expressions are somewhere between dread and avenging angel. The Animorphs’ parents are remaining quiet. 

I have negotiated a few tense standoffs in my time. Troy. The Siege of Orleans. Waterloo. This one will be different. And infinitely more interesting. “There’s no need for this to escalate further,” I say. “Just come out of your hosts. We won’t harm you.”

The remaining Controllers are sweating. “What the hell are those things? Come on, you can’t seriously believe that we’re aliens. What kind of bad joke is this?”

“Your secret’s out alien scum!” bellows an ex-Controller. “Surrender!”

Tssew!

Several people jump as the laser melts a hole in the floor. Eyes dart from officer to officer. Some soldiers look like they are going to jump us to keep things from escalating further. I need to do something.

“There’s no need to shoot,” I snap to the ex-Controller. Lt. Colonel Bradley. I never knew him before he was infested. “We’ve got them cornered. Listen!”

All eyes turn to me. “What you just saw was evidence of an alien attempt to infiltrate our ranks. The Yeerk Empire has made it a goal to take over the entire planet using our bodies. They will be sending reinforcements soon to make sure we cannot strike against them. We need to be out of here before that happens!”

“You’ve got phasers,” says a soldier. “How do we know you’re not the aliens?” 

“Major!” Lt. Colonel Bradley snaps, ignoring the speaker. “We can’t just leave the base! Where will we go?”

“With the Peace Movement!” Jake’s father blurts. He’s getting ahead of me.

“Not all Yeerks wish humanity ill,” I say. I will roll with it, though eyes are starting to glaze over. “We did not reveal the truth to all of you just so you could fight an impossible battle against a foe hundreds of years more technologically advanced.”

Slowly, a few soldiers step forward.

“Speak,” I say.

Each question is along the lines of “Do you trust them, sir?”

“Yes,” I reply. 

The rest of the soldiers are silent. They are watching to see what happens next. If nothing else, military men and women are practical. They will work with what they have. But they aren’t completely convinced. “How do we know you’re not one of them?”

“He is!” Bellows a Controller. Nassil 881. “I always knew you were a weasel, Drosk 322. But this-“ He waves his hand in disgust. “You’ve betrayed us to the Andalites! And for what?”

I feel the nuzzle of a Dracon beam poke my side. Calmly, I turn to Lt. Colonel Bradley. “Yes. I won’t let anyone use that against me, especially you, Nassil 881.” And I release my Yeerk into my hand. Gasps fill the room. “I am a host to a Yeerk from the Peace Movement. We are here to rescue you so that you have a chance to fight for humanity’s freedom.”

“I’ve never heard of you guys,” says another ex-Controller. “This is some kind of trick. You’re a voluntary spouting shit.”

“Didn’t you hear what I said, slugs?” Lt. Colonel Bradley snaps to the remaining Controllers. “Exit your hosts or I’ll fry you now.”

“Don’t! You’ll kill humans, too!” Cassie’s mother says at the same time a Controller protests. “We can’t because we’re not aliens!” 

“Go ahead. Visser Three will kill you,” Nassil 881 sneers, not bothering to lie. 

“This is ridiculous! He’s right!” Rachel’s mother, Naomi, yells. “While we’re standing here arguing, there will be more of these Yeerks coming!”

“If there are Yeerks coming, where are they?” a soldier snickers. Nods from others.

“Everyone, please,” I say. 

“Quiet!” Lt. Colonel Bradley snaps. The uproar in the Commons becomes a soft murmur. He turns back to me. “Unless Adm. Orlander is present, I am the ranking officer. Major, how do you plan to get us out of here without the Yeerks noticing? Where would we go?”

“We will use hologram emitters to give you cover while you head to the Peace Movement’s Headquarters. They can project virtually any image, sound, and sensation we choose to show our enemies. I’ve stored them in the weapons locker if you’re curious. Another member of the movement is on his way to escort you over. He will take you there. You’ll have to carry half of the emitters with you. I will use the remaining half to convince the Yeerk leaders they have taken you captive or killed you. We’re doing the same thing across the country. By the time the Empire realizes they haven’t captured or killed anyone, it will be too late.”

No one moves. I think they no longer know whom to follow. Normally, that would be Adm. Orlander. I have not seen him since he went down to the pool. I assume the Animorphs either killed him or forced his Yeerk out. He is probably still down there. I hope we can rescue him. I also know now is not the time to bring him up.

Lt. Colonel Bradley slowly lowers his Dracon beam and then hands it to the nearest human soldier, holding his hands open. Lets out a long breath. “Okay. We have two things we need to do first: we need to take care of the Yeerks down in the Kandrona pool. If anyone doesn’t believe this is real, you’re welcome to head down with me. Explosives team. We have an underground chamber the size of this base to destroy. We can’t leave it available for the enemy to use. The second thing we need to do is make sure everyone gets out. I mean everyone. Major Armstrong is correct that the Yeerk Empire is going to send reinforcements to this base to take us captive or kill us before we tell anyone else their secret.”

Cassie, Rachel, and Jake’s parents all nod. Slowly, the soldiers do as well and begin forming up ranks to carry out Lt. Colonel Bradley’s orders. He tells them to bind the remaining Controllers at their arms and surrounded so they cannot escape.

Too slow, I think. Aximili bought us half an hour at most before the Visser gets word of Andalites. Even if he arrives with too few personnel, their Dracon beams will plow right through us.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco does some Yeerk spotting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're getting into familiar Animorph territory.

I’m buried in rubble before I can even register what has happened. I morph gorilla, glancing around to make sure my friends are okay. From the little I can see, they are morphing. I let out a sigh of relief. Then, I look up. Uh, guys?

Where one was a base ceiling, there’s only sky. There’s nothing visible above, but the ceiling didn’t just decide to implode. A Bug fighter must have given us a welcome party.

BOOOM!

The ground shakes again as another explosion from below goes off. We crouch as far down as we can, but the rubble stirred up makes it impossible for us to coordinate. Debris pours down on me like a hale storm and dust stings my eyes.

Is everyone alive? Jake calls in thought-speech.

One by one, we answer. 

I can see soldiers fleeing. Ax says. They are taking vehicles and making for the countryside. 

Those have to be holograms. I say. They should be heading in the opposite direction. Towards the King house.

I have an idea. I demorph behind large chunks of ceiling and go spider. We might not be able to see the Bug fighters and whatever else is up there, but the Yeerks can’t be invisible to everything. 

Scuttling over the rubble is surprisingly easy as a wolf spider. Sure enough, the Bug fighters, thanks to their size, are visible as clear as day. They shimmer colors I can’t describe. Probably interference from their cloaking devices. I can see the real soldiers, too. They are heading in the right direction under cover of something that to my spider eyes looks a lot like an aurora borealis.

Marco, quit staring and tell us what’s going on! Rachel snaps. I hear crunching as bear muscles throw rubble aside.

Everything’s going to plan, except for us being stuck in here the open with Bug fighters circling overhead. Armstrong’s leaving with his men. And presumably our parents as well, I say. What does that leave us?

“It leaves you just fine,” comes a familiar voice. A sleek metallic body emerges from the rubble and calmly dusts itself off as if this were a regular occurance. 

Wait, I say. If you’re here, who’s that with the army?

“Erek,” Armstrong says simply. “I asked him to come in case I needed back-up.”

And you didn’t tell us? Jake asked dubiously.

Armstrong doesn’t answer that. Instead, he extends his hologram to hide us and lifts each Animorph free from the rubble. As Armstrong offers me a hand (literally) to rejoin my friends, I realize I should have expected Erek would be here. The Chee are obligated by their programming to make certain that as few people get killed on their watch as possible. If that means they have to double up on team missions, they will. And since Erek is posing as a kid, it’s not like anyone’s going to miss him after 3 o'clock. No one except Mr. King. 

We should get out of here now, Jake says. Bird morphs. 

Wait, I say. As I do, I’m grateful I haven’t demorphed yet or I might have missed it. It’s the Blade Ship! It looks like it’s going to land! 

Of course, Visser Three would want to watch the carnage, Jake says darkly.

This is perfect, Rachel says. Once it lands, we can sneak on board and do some damage!

Xena, are you forgetting: how are we supposed to get out after we’ve gotten in? I ask incredulously.

I’m going with Rachel on this one, Jake says. If I weren’t a spider, I’d punch him. This is too good a chance to take out Visser Three for good.

And get ourselves killed in the process!

“Not so,” Armstrong murmurs. “I can give you cover. You just need to promise you’ll focus on sabotage, not killing.”

But Visser Three- Jake begins.

“Is more useful to you alive than dead,” Armstrong finishes. “If you kill him, the Empire will replace him with someone else. If you capture him, you have a bargaining chip.”

I meet Armstrong’s silvery gaze. Are you sure you’re not violent?

“I have avoided murdering, kidnapping, or torturing for five thousand years,” Armstrong replies solemnly. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be devious.”  
While we talk, the Blade Ship launches something at the holographic soldiers. A metallic bullet-shaped thing that explodes into a cloud of gold on impact. At least, it looks like gold to my spider eyes. What is that? I ask.

“Modified nerve gas,” Armstrong responds. “That’s why the Blade Ship is here. They’re going to scoop up as many hosts as possible.” He pauses. “I’m getting word from other Chee. Bug fighters are gassing up the other bases with a Yeerk presence.”

Spider eyes and human eyes aren’t good for long-distance, so I morph osprey to see what kind of illusion Erek has cooked up. I wish I hadn’t. Nerve gas is horrible stuff. Erek has painted a convincing image of soldiers lying on the ground convulsing. Vomiting. Hallucinating. If they were real, they’d be sitting ducks for the Empire. I look over my shoulder. The actual soldiers are on foot, but they’re getting further away under cover of hologram emitters and noise cancellers. It’s going to be a long, scary trek to the King house. Erek will probably split them up and escort them in smaller groups while the rest of them hide. That’s what I’d do.

How are the other Chee and Peace Movement members doing with getting the military to evacuate? Jake asks, eyes still on the Blade Ship. 

“Well,” Armstrong replies. “Since our efforts were coordinated, no one from the Empire was ready. One of our groups in New York and another in Colorado were slow to evacuate, but now that the nerve gas is out, everyone’s taking this seriously.”

The Yeerks are pretty well-coordinated, too. Rachel notes.

They don’t want anyone escaping and getting the truth out further, Tobias says.

Thump.

The ground sinks slightly when the Blade Ship touches down. Slowly, the main ramp slides free. Dozens of Hork-Bajir and Taxxons swarm out before we see a human shadow.

That’s not Visser Three, Rachel sounds disappointed.

“It’s Visser Seven,” Armstrong says. “We told you she arrived two weeks ago.”

Why’s she here and not Visser Three? 

Who cares? I snap. A Visser is a Visser. Let’s get her!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel leads the charge on the Blade Ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was fun.

That’s my line, Marco. I say. We’re standing on top of what used to be a steel-and-concrete military base like memorial statues to the fallen. To our left is a massive holographic display. Somewhere out there platoons of soldiers are hiding from alien scanners. Off to our right is a cloaked ship the size of an apartment complex full of bloodthirsty aliens. It feels weird standing in plain view yet knowing there’s no way they can see us. I turn to Jake. What’s the plan?

Jake takes only a second. Like Armstrong suggests, sabotage. We fuck up the Blade Ship as best as we can. Rip out all the wires. Smash up the engines. Whatever we can. We take Visser Seven prisoner. Go in, smash stuff up, grab her, and get out. Armstrong, take us in. Fly morphs, everyone.

Marco, as usual, makes a dumb joke. Your wish is my command. 

Followed closely by Ax’s, Yes, Prince Jake.

Don’t call me Prince, Ax.

The first part will be easy. The last thing I see before completely going fly is Visser Seven is standing right there arguing with a Hork-Bajir while her security teams fan out waving scanners around.

We can’t see shit as flies. Well, okay. We can see our own hideous reflections in Armstrong’s metallic hand. Not that we want to. Just hearing is enough. The distant screams of the “soldiers”. Hork-Bajir shouting commands. Dracon beams charging up. Taxxons hissing and grumbling to themselves. And Visser Seven’s cool, impartial voice.

“Gafrash. Spread out!”

“-visual confirmation of three platoons. Looks like they were trying to run away,” Visser Seven says. “I want to move the ship a little closer to assess the extent of the damage they did to the pool. Before that, I need status on the Andalite Bandits.”

“Noshing so far,” says a Hork-Bajir. “Sensors kaft ushik Andalites.”

Visser Seven scoffs. “Of course you’re not going to find them by scanning for Andalites. They’re probably in morph escaping already!”

Armstrong sets us down on silvery floor.

Alright, everyone. Jake says. Battle morphs.

“Remember, no killing anyone,” Armstrong whispers.

That’s okay by me. As long as I get to ruin Yeerk plans.

Jake the tiger. Cassie the wolf. Marco the gorilla. Tobias morphs elephant. Ax as himself. And me as an elephant. This will be so much fun.

“Hrrrrungr!”

I pick up a Hork-Bajir and introduce him to a wall. I think they’ll like each other. 

SMASH! 

Visser Seven and her security whirl around. Marco grabs the Visser and pulls her inside as Ax rolls the ramp back up. Closes the doors on Dracon fire.

Tobias, of all people, makes for the engine room first. I guess he’s stoked. Either that or the elephant is getting claustrophobic. Briefly, it occurs to me that we could steal the Visser’s prize, but I have to scrap that idea fast. There’s still too many crew on board. And if all we can do is send them to dreamland for a while, there’s no way we can hold the ship. It looks like we’re heading for the engines.

But if we all head there together, we’ll be boxed in. So, I charge in the opposite direction towards a different set of confused cries. 

The bridge! Full of Hork-Bajir, human, and Taxxon crew. Time to introduce them to some very delicate-looking control panels. 

Smash! Smash! Tseww!

I’m hit and bleeding. But not before I take out several crew and send the rest of them running for cover. 

Tseww!

Suddenly, I’m blind! Crash to the floor. Burning as more painful stings strike my body. 

It stops.

“Demorph!”

I obey without thinking. Armstrong is standing right above me. “Don’t wander off,” he says as if I am a small child. 

I’m about to argue, but I’m mainly concerned with how a bunch of unconscious Controllers shot at me. They didn’t. The ceiling of the bridge has some new holes in it. And nuzzles poking out of them.

“This ship is a death trap,” I mutter before remorphing. 

The nice thing about having Armstrong with us is that the Yeerks shoot and try to cut us to pieces but we don’t get hit. It’s (probably) what it was like for that anonymous arsonist who set that abandoned house on fire in our city. Just a big, old party. Minus all the shouting and aliens throwing themselves at us. This feels a little ridiculous in some ways, but since I’m not bleeding, I’m not arguing.

We smash our way through. Sometimes using the Controllers themselves to bludgeon the delicate equipment. It’s slow progress since Armstrong has to check every Controller we knock unconscious to make sure he’s able to fix any life-threatening damage done. He’s not happy. “Gentler!” he urges.

Over the loudspeaker comes something in Galard. I don’t understand it, but Ax immediately turns around. Self-destruct activated! Twenty seconds! Everyone run!

Twenty seconds?! I scream. What idiot decided to give everyone twenty seconds to get their shit together?

It’s not easy for an elephant to turn around in an enclosed space, much less our little zoo. Tobias points out an airlock he sees further inside the ship to our left. 

Armstrong and Ax almost trip over each other getting it open.

We charge.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having escaped the Blade Ship, Cassie and the others must deal with the security force they left outside. A little chapter written very quickly.

We expect the ship to explode behind us. It doesn’t. We tumble out of the airlock into the dirt. I cough some out of my wolf muzzle. Check in with Nyza 470. 

Are you okay? I think to her. I’ve only been a host for a few hours and so far, she’s let me do everything. Except for the running commentary, I hardly realize she’s there. I never knew Yeerks could be so passive.

Haven’t exploded, she grins mentally. And I won’t. Because Yeerk ships don’t have self-destructs. It’s a bluff in case we’re boarded. Who wants to get blown up over a ship?

I shake my head. I can’t believe we fell for that.

Don’t feel too bad. It always works, she says. 

I suppose being a tactical officer she’d know that. For all I know, she was the one to come up with it. Based on what she’s told me, Yeerks don’t actually have the biggest budgets or the best technology, so they have to trick their way out of bad situations. 

Rachel says a bad word. We could have taken that ship!

Are you insane?! Marco blurts. We were outnumbered! That was the best we could do, bluff or no bluff!

Guys! Tobias yells. Are you forgetting the Yeerks we left outside?

On cue, the shooting starts.

Tseww! Tseww!

Our cover is blown. Even Armstrong’s. He’d dropped the illusion in order to focus on getting us out of the airlock. Forget the holograms and forcefields. It’s down to a fight. Thankfully, morphing heals injuries and there aren’t that many enemies. Yeerks don’t tend to throw themselves at a problem. They prefer to sit back and let you fall into a trap or smoke you from orbit.

On cue, we split up. Marco hands Visser Seven to Armstrong. He starts running to catch up with Erek.

My teeth sink into Taxxon flesh. It pops like a balloon from the force. Blech! I spit out the gory mess just in time to see its Yeerk making a break for it. Its tiny, shriveled body moves like an inchworm in the dark. Before Nyza 470 can argue, I bring my paw down on its tiny form. Its death barely makes a sound.

You didn’t have to that, Nyza 470 says sadly.

No witnesses to potentially expose us. I echo Jake’s order. Many times, we’ve had to demorph in front of the enemy to avoid bleeding to death. If we didn’t kill the Yeerks and Controllers who saw us, we’d have been exposed long ago. Not to mention Ax purging whatever security records caught of us.

Given how many we still have yet to take out, some of them will see our true forms before this is over.

Nyza 470 goes silent. And she’s silent until it’s time to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Applegate devoted very little to explain how the Animorphs kept their identities secret for so long. Given how often they had to demorph to heal injuries, a lot of Yeerks must have seen their true forms. What happened to those Yeerks? Short of everyone experiencing sudden, collective amnesia, the only thing that could explain it is that the Animorphs killed anyone who saw them demorph. That's a whole new level of dark that I haven't heard too many other fans speculate about. But I won't spend too much time on it.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Visser Seven becomes aware of her situation.

When I awaken, I am floating in thick liquid surrounded by my own kind. No soldiers. No screams. No feet about to come down on me. Safety! Esplin 9466 must have won. 

Then, I realize: the Kandrona tastes wrong.

It’s coppery and the heat comes from below, not above like on the Pool Ship. And these Yeerks… I don’t recognize any of them!

I touch antennae with the first Yeerk I can pull aside. “Where am I?”

“Safe,” is the reply. “We dragged you off the battlefield. Your host was dying.”

A “safe” answer. Which meant this Yeerk didn’t want me to know. Impudent wench. “I am Visser Seven. The senior ranking officer on the Education Committee. You will answer my question in full detail.”

His response is to shrink away from me just as others surround me. I can feel thousands of tiny vibrations from mouthparts flexing. No speech, just the gnashing of feeding vents. Vaguely, rumors of cannibalism float up in my mind. I don’t know these Yeerks. I don’t know anything I need to know to make an intelligent decision.

I flee.

Out! I’m flopping in what feels like vegetation. I crawl… crawl… seemingly forever. Until I am scooped up by a human hand.

“Hi, Visser Seven,” booms a male human voice. “I am Ullit 687. We have much to discuss. I can hook you up with a host if you promise to behave.”

When he put it that way…

“You want voluntary hosts only?” The idea is foreign to me. It doesn’t sound like something a Yeerk would imagine. As Ullit 687 explains, it isn’t. The original founder of the group is a young human who inspired her Yeerk to view her as an equal rather than livestock.

Intriguing, but I’m not sure how much of his story I buy. Especially when I don’t know if the movement has a sponsor or not. I can think of a few Vissers or even sub-vissers who might get behind a group like this if it benefitted them somehow. 

Esplin 9466 isn’t one such Visser. My innards sink as I realize that means he likely has no idea where I am. If his personnel are as incompetent as he claims, they will likely miss the fact that I am missing from my host and simply write me off as deceased. 

Brilliant. I could be stuck here for a while.

I look around. No weapons in sight. Lots of holographic plants and sky. Behind which could be anything. But, if they wanted me dead, brainwashed, or tortured, they could have done so already. Soft persuasion. I know this game. If that’s what Ullit 687 wants to play with me, I will be here for a while. In that case, I might as well get comfortable. And some answers. “Just how are you able to hide so many Yeerks down here? What is this new Kandrona?” 

Ullit 687 puts a finger to his lips. “Not until we can trust you. We’ve heard you say some things that suggest we can.”

Smart move. I wonder exactly what he means. I have made so many speeches he could be referring to a vague statement from any one of them or all of them. If he even listens to teaching speeches anymore. Most adult Yeerks don’t. He might have been on the Blade Ship eavesdropping on Esplin 9466 and myself, as lowly employees are wont to do. 

“I have an excellent reputation as an instructor,” I say guardedly. “I am loyal to the Empire.”

He smiles. I am doing good so far. “How are you at learning?”

I stare at him. “Pfft. Is that a question? One cannot teach without being able to learn!” I bring the full force of my gaze to bear on him. “I knew there had to be a reason you took the time to scrape me, likely half-dead, off the floor of a war zone. What is it you want from me? Tell me so I may return home.” 

Ullit 687 shakes his head. “No, Visser. We did not rescue you in order to make demands. You will be free to leave this place as soon as you have recovered. All that we ask is that you not cause trouble while you are here and keep an open mind.”

“I will not listen to propaganda or take any action I deem inappropriate.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking you to.” Ullit 687 leans back on the bench we are sitting on. “I do have a question about something you said.”

I peer closer at him. Was he ever a student of mine? I’ve had so many. I think I would remember a distinctive name like Ullit. “Was it in a speech?”

“Sort of. We kind of… overheard it. One of our members was doing maintenance in the area when you were talking to Visser Three.”

So much for student-teacher confidentiality. But a leader is a public figure, as I always say. Esplin 9466 and I are both high-ranking Vissers. Everyone wants to know what we’re up to. “And what did you hear that made you curious? I am not going to be angry with you.”

Ullit 687 rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “Thank you.”

I am watching him and the other Controllers closely. So far, I have seen many gestures that could be hand signaling, but no one has acted in a secretive or hostile way. Mostly, others are peering at me between dog petting sessions if they notice me at all. It is nice not to be the center of attention.

“You mentioned you had some regrets. What are they?” 

I blink, surprised he’d want to hear them. Esplin 9466 had been shocked when I voiced them. Offended, even. Long ago, when I was head of the Education Committee, I had made it treason to question my own edicts. Edicts I held each and every Yeerk I met to. In Ullit 687, though, I see only openness. 

Taking a deep breath, I say, “I am old. When I look back on what I have achieved, all of my best students are dead, stand to lose everything like Visser Three, or are rotting in prison, like the former Visser One. I… regret the lessons I filled these young Yeerks minds with. I was young myself when I came up with them. I thought I was clever and convinced everyone around me that I was wise.”

Ullit 687 simply nods as if we are discussing the weather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been asked who my favorite character of this story is and besides Cassie, I'd have to say it's Visser Seven. She's obviously a villain, but there's a bit more to her than simply lording her power over others. Though I have to say, I've thoroughly enjoyed writing all these characters.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we're back to Tom! Sorry, Tom. We had to get the main plot out of the way.
> 
> He has a hard decision to make.

“Hi,” Jake says.

Finally! I turn around little by little, not for drama or anything, but because I forgot I could do it on my own. Fucking Essa 412. Is. Gone!

“Hi-i-i,” I say. “Testing. One. Two. Three.”

Then we hug. A million things go through my head at once. 99.9% of them are dumb or inappropriate to do around my kid brother. I settle for, “Thanks, squirt.”

Jake laughs. And laughs. And laughs. “That’s it? ‘Thanks, squirt?’ Why’d I help you again?”

“Cuz I’m a million times better a brother than a slug?” I want to say. It comes out like I have a mouth full of oatmeal. “Sorry, my tongue is…Stop that!”

“What’d you say about buying a rug?” Jake asks, confused.

“Never mind,” I say. “My tongue isn’t cooperating.”

“O-okay,” Jake breathes out slowly. “We should save the heartfelt talk for another time.” He pulls away. “Tom, you need to stay with Er-Ullit 687. The Yeer- The Empire will know you’re free now.”

I nod.

“You’ll have lots of company,” Jake says. “This is the Yeerk Peace Movement headquarters. Well, one of them anyway.”

I don’t think I really bothered to look around when I got here. Too busy feeling weirded out, I guess. I went through it. The fugue. While Marco, and then my own father, watched it happen. One thing they don’t tell you about Yeerk starvation: it takes longer than three days. Sometimes days longer if the Yeerk is healthy and young. By doing almost nothing, Essa 412 managed to last almost five days. Five days of torture.

“It’s nice,” I say. Truth is, it looks like somebody’s dream. The YPM is really into dogs for whatever reason. I shake my head. Aliens. What do you do with them? “I’ll get tired of it eventually. And I want to fight. I want to get back at them.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a while. “You know if you leave this place, there’s a chance you’ll be reinfested, right?”

“Not likely. You can’t infest someone who’s already got a Yeerk inside.”

Jake’s eyes widen. But I can see the gears turning in his head. He knows I probably thought about this for the weeks I’ve been going through therapy. I didn’t have the heart to say it was all I could think about. Imagine not being able to more than breathe without having your therapist, a Yeerk with experience in handling broken or mentally ill hosts, doing things for you. That’s been my life for the past month. Truth is, that’s why I’m only talking to him right now. I don’t know how to break it to Ma and Pa that I haven’t gotten better, despite everyone’s best efforts. Maybe I never will get better. So why not be a host again?

I smile at him, even though I feel like shit. I haven’t smiled of my own volition in over a year. It probably looks gruesome. “Look at me, little bro. I can’t even move properly. I don’t wanna be like this.” My words still barely sound like speech, but Jake follows my lips.

“You’ll get better!” he says. He’s almost begging. 

“Relax, kiddo. I’m not going back to the Empire. I see a lot of Yeerks but not so many bodies for them. Or is that not an issue after all?”

If Jake argues with me, I will stand there like a tree. I have difficulty just moving and that will hopefully prove my point. Instead, he just looks sad, like a kid finding out Christmas is canceled. He wants Tom, his big brother, back. But how do I come back? Does anyone need me now there’s a war on? If anyone needs a front man for basketball, that’s me. War? I’m as clueless as the next guy. I can’t do war.

But maybe I can do peace.

“I’ll go with you,” Jake says.

Haltingly, we go to the nearest Yeerk pool. Tiny grey forms poke out of the rich blue liquid. Odd. It doesn’t look like the usual Kandrona stuff. “Anyone wanna come out?”

There’s a flurry of activity. Yeerk antennae twitch like mad. They communicate like ants I’d seen on a nature program. Discovery or BBC. Then, they submerge until only one Yeerk remains at the surface.

I lean down. Feel a brush against my ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter really broke my heart. Not just because of its topic, but also because I hate leaving characters hanging like that.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ax is not happy with the latest plan. Cassie and Aftran reunite.

Absolutely not! 

I turn my host’s head to regard Ax. Clutch the Escafil device in my hands protectively. “It’s the logical next step now that we’re freeing as many military personnel as we can. What are they supposed to do, just sit around while the Empire takes more of their people? Take pot-shots with their useless guns?” I ask. “What can they do as non-morphers?”

My name is Nyza 470. I can tell you my full name because if you are reading this, you are an ally. Or you are loyal to the Empire and have captured/killed all of us. In which case, it hardly matters. My host still prefers her last name to be kept hidden. Habit, I suppose.

We are at the YPM headquarters in California. We have over a hundred military personnel down here with us, all getting used to the idea of aliens, the invasion, and everything else at their own pace. So far, a couple dozen have committed to allying themselves with us. The rest are still on the fence as to how to proceed. We are about to give them and the rest of the military personnel we freed across the country more options. If we could get past one stubborn Andalite, that is.

“Jake okayed the plan,” Cassie reminds Ax. “All that’s left to do is travel to other YPM headquarters and-“ I hold up the Escafil device.

He folds his arms, which hilariously makes him look like a small Visser Three about to have a tantrum. I know, he says. I am not happy with the decision. I have no idea of the long-term consequences of sharing morphing technology with so many humans will be. All I know is I am already in trouble for what Elfangor did when he shared it with five human children. 

“Your point?” I ask.

It is Andalite technology. If it is to be shared, an Andalite should be the one to do it. 

So that’s what this is about. “You still don’t trust me,” I say. “Even after I helped you fight my own people.”

It is not an issue of trust. It is… a matter of responsibility.

I roll Cassie’s eyes. “Andalites are so stubborn.”

A sly look creeps into Ax’s expression. Careful, Yeerk. Prince Jake did not say that you should be the one to spread the morphing ability. If I tell him I am the one who wishes to do it, I am sure he will agree.

I glare at him as Cassie thinks, Can you two stop it? We’re supposed to be allies! 

“And I would argue it should be a Yeerk,” I say. “When we freed ourselves from Andalite rule, we told ourselves we’re wily heroes out to make the galaxy a better place. We haven’t done that. Let us do right.” Gritting my teeth, I add, “Please.”

It’s Ax’s turn to blink in disbelief. Do you really believe that?

“It’s what the Empire teaches us.”

He stares at me for a long time. I can see there’s no changing your mind.

“Nope,” I say.

He nods. Therefore, I am coming with you.

Cassie gives a mental squeal. This is great! Andalites and Yeerks working together!

Don’t get your hopes up, I tell her. One Andalite and one Yeerk working together does not peace make. We don’t even like each other.

It’s a start, Cassie urges.

Ax jerks an eyestalk back to one of the Kandrona pools. Adm. Orlander is over there. Come on, Yeerk, before I change my mind.

Adm. Orlander is glaring into the pool. When he sees us approach, he opens his hand. A Yeerk wriggles in it. “My little friend,” he says, no sarcasm involved.

“I’m glad you’re getting along so well,” I say. I think I know why. A lot of Yeerks have been talking about how to improve our relationships with our hosts and something Cassie’s parents suggested is modifications to brains. If a Yeerk knows what it’s doing, it might be able to modify a neural pathway connected to something like PTSD. Or stimulate immune responses during sickness. 

Something for me to try on Cassie. She definitely has PTSD.

Admiral, Ax says. Have you decided on a course of action?

“God, everyone’s asking me that,” he mutters. “Kid, you’re in your people’s military, right? You understand: our job is to protect our country from threats within and without. Our first priority is freeing the government from Yeerk influence. Beyond that, it’s about our families and their safety. They’ll have been taken, right? Our families?”

“Probably not,” I answer. “Since your families were mostly unaware of what you were doing for the military, it’s not likely they would know about the invasion. But the Empire will have people watching them, in case you show up.” 

Tough choice. Glad I’m not them. I’m also glad I’m not the military people who saw the broadcast and got picked up by the first wave of Operation Clean Sweep. There wasn’t anything we could do about that. All we can do is steal the remaining free humans away from the Empire while Visser Three is distracted by a possible attack from the Andalite fleet. We’ll do it, whether by taking them as hosts for ourselves (with permission) or by sneaking them away like we did before. 

And sabotage. Visser Three is already having money and resource problems. If the Animorphs and the military join forces, they might be able to inflict so much damage that the Empire has to retreat. 

“What do you think about this?” I hold up the Escafil device. “It gives us the morphing power. You and your soldiers could have it, too.”

He squints at it. “I don’t know… What would we do with it? What are the consequences of turning into animals? You know that phrase is often used to refer to war. Its brutish reality and the things we have to do to survive it.”

You cannot fight against the Yeerks as you are now, Ax says. They have superior technology and humans are easy to kill. Morphing circumvents both problems.

And we do a demo. Ax chops off Cassie’s arm off. Adm. Orlander watches bug-eyed as we morph wolf and demorph. Arm restored. 

“Whoa. That’s impressive.” Adm. Orlander looks at the severed arm in the grass, then at Yeerk in his hand, and drops it back into the pool. “I’ll think about it.”

I turn to Ax. “I think that’s the best we’re going to get out of him.”

We walk back to Jake. He’s with his parents, Tom, and even Homer. Homer loves it here, to the point where he’s the one dragging everyone over to the King house. Not that Jake and his parents need any motivating now that Tom is living here 24/7. He’s hosting Perol 038. Unfortunately, we don’t have any good cover for him suddenly reappearing as host to a new Yeerk. So, unless he wants to assume a new life elsewhere under a fake identity he’s going to be with us until this whole mess is over. 

“Orlander?” Jake asks.

“Thinking about it,” I say at the same time Ax says, I want to supervise sharing of the morphing power.

“Sure,” Jake says. “As long as everyone agrees it’s a good idea. Oh, Cassie: Aftran’s here. She was asking about you.”

Aftran? Cassie perks up. She looks from Jake to Ax and then to Jake again.

“Go ahead,” he urges. “I think Ax still has some things to say.”

I’m sure he does. We find Aftran hanging out with another Hork-Bajir Controller. Voluntary Hork-Bajir are extremely rare. Cassie and I are both eager to learn more. 

“Aftran?” Cassie says.

Red eyes turn towards us. “Cassie. Nyza 470. How are you?”

“Doing good. How about yo- you’re covered in scars!”

She chuckles, a harsh, rumbling sound. “Yes. Courtesy of Visser Three. I’ve been temporarily demoted and couldn’t be happier.”

I feel a little sick.

“So,” she continues, spreading her arms. “This is what we can accomplish when we all work together. It’s amazing. The Chee are planning to build another structure nearby to hide more people. But if you ask me, the military should do what you Animorphs are doing. Focus on sabotage. Make things so impossible that peace will start to look attractive.”

“That thought had crossed my mind,” I say. “Cassie doesn’t really like it though. She thinks it means more killing.”

“Oh, sabotage takes many forms,” Aftran chuckles again. “I got in quite a bit of trouble for letting that broadcast go out as long as I did.” 

“That was you?” Cassie gapes at her. I’m not surprised. Most YPM members are willing to do similar things as long as it stays nonviolent.

“Yes!” Aftran stops and her gaze falls on the Escafil device. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yep,” I say.

Aftran taps it thoughtfully. “You know, if Yeerks could morph, we wouldn’t need hosts.”

Oh, man. Cassie thinks. I have a new idea but Ax is really going to hate it.

Jake won’t, I remind her. Something else to consider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! It feels good to bring everything to full circle. I hope you can see how things will "reunite" with the canon solution to the Yeerk need for hosts. I don't know if I'll continue with this story, but I have enjoyed it so much. Thank you to everyone who followed along with Worth It. The comments and feedback are what kept me going.


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